Classic Poem

I saw the sun, at the dawning of day,
Chasing the mantling mist away,
And tinging it over with gold;
The clouds that before his face were driven
Were rich with the deepest hues of heaven,
And in volumes of crimson rolled:
The world was blooming and bright and fair,
But nor life nor love was moving there.

I saw that sun, at his setting hour,
Send over the hills an amber shower
Of softer and mellower rays;
It bronzed the trunks of the moss-grown wood,
And bathed their leaves in a golden flood,
As he sank in his fullest blaze:
The world was dewy and calm and fair,
But nor life nor love was moving there.

I saw the moon, at the noon of night,
Crowning the sky serenely bright,
And gilding the waves below;
Clear in her beam the white frost shone,
As if over the fields were loosely thrown
A sparkling sheet of snow:
The world was silent and pure and fair,
But nor life nor love was moving there.

I saw, on her gay and purple wing,
The light and laughing spirit of Spring,
Strewing the earth with flowers;
The leafless shrubs were hung with bloom,
And an airy wave of soft perfume
Was poured from the budding bowers:
The world was smiling and sweet and fair,
But nor life nor love was moving there.

I saw through the shade of a maple grove,
In the light of her youth and beauty, move
The fancied queen of my soul;
From her bright and quenchless orbs of blue
The arrows of thought and feeling flew,
And the tears of compassion stole:
O, she was the image of all that is fair,
And life and love were moving there.