Starlight Musings.
THE gentle spirit of the twilight now
Has shut his rosy wings, and I have come
Out in the sad, sweet starlight, to commune
With olden visions, soft and beautiful,
Yet fading in my soul.
Has shut his rosy wings, and I have come
Out in the sad, sweet starlight, to commune
With olden visions, soft and beautiful,
Yet fading in my soul.
Ye lovely stars!
Bright, holy watchers of the glorious sky!
Ye gave to me in eves of other years
Your gentle sympathy—Oh grant it still,
For now 'tis dearer to the orphan's heart,
Than when in childhood's happy years she gazed
Enchanted on your lovely light, and dreamed
Had she but wings, that she could rise and grasp
Bright, holy watchers of the glorious sky!
Ye gave to me in eves of other years
Your gentle sympathy—Oh grant it still,
For now 'tis dearer to the orphan's heart,
Than when in childhood's happy years she gazed
Enchanted on your lovely light, and dreamed
Had she but wings, that she could rise and grasp
