There is a blush upon thy face to-night
Which sheds around a luxury of light!
Wherefore, oh, Moon, art thou so brightly fair!
Would'st thou some new Endymion ensnare?
Each sparkling wave, as it receives thy rays,
Seems quivering and thrilling at thy gaze;
And gently murmurs, whilst the God below
Feels through his frame the universal glow,
And heaves his breast majestical for thee!
Cease, cease, to look on us so lovingly,