That soon thy beauty all around shall throw.
“Hail thee, fair orb! all hail! advance to lend
Thy more ethereal light. All spirits bend
In holiest worship to thee. Forth from glen
And the sequestered wood, from cave and bower,
Impatiently they wait the genial hour
Of thy mild sovereignty. Advance thee then!
Speed, speed the hours till midnight is begun,
And till each star its central course has run.
“Poet, we bear thee with us till the time,