Classic Poem

The evening darkness shrouds
The slumbering world in peace,
And from her throne of clouds
Shines Luna through the trees.
My thoughts in silence blend,
But gathered all to thee:
Thou moon! the mourner's friend,
Oh, come and mourn with me!

Upon her grave I bow,
The green grave where she lies:
Oh, hear my sorrows now,
And consecrate my sighs!
This is her ashes' bed, —
Here her cold relics sleep, —
Where I my tears shall shed,
While this torn heart can weep.

O Julia! Never rose
Had half the charms of thee!
My comfort, my repose, —
Oh, thou wert all to me!
But thou art gone, and I
Must bear life's load of clay, —
And pray, and long to die,
Though dying day by day.

But I must cease to sing,
My lyre all mute appears.
Alas! Its plaintive string
Is wetted with my tears.
Oh! Misery's song must end, —
My thoughts all fly to thee: —
Thou moon! The mourner's friend,
Oh, come and mourn with me!