Classic Poem

Thee , Moon! fair regent of the spangled sky,
Whose brighten'd orb in Frome's soft-flowing stream,
With added lustre shows its gentle beam,
With pleasing Melancholy fraught I hail:
And, as I view thy glorious lamp on high,
Now silv'ring o'er each vernal hill and dale,
Remembrance bids me heave the frequent sigh,
For those in absence lost, who to this heart,
This sadden'd heart, shall ever dear remain:
But chief for Her who bears the tend'rest part,
By sacred Friendship taught, in all my pain.
O! till her Friend, her lover, come again,
May she, whene'er she casts a look to thee,
With added tenderness remember me.