Classic Poem

See, smiling Cynthia now begins to rise,
And with transparent glories paints the skies.
Hail beauteous rival of the darksome night,
Whose glooms give way to thy superior light.
Thy lucid charms afford a second day,
And guide the weary pilgrim on his way.
Thy milder presence renders open plains
Delightful to the nymphs and to the swains,
Who all the day in lonely shades retreat,
To shun the fury of meridian heat.

The warbling lark forsakes its downy nest,
And thinks the day in Cynthia's smiles express'd;
Beguil'd by thee he chaunts his morning song,
The tuneful summons to the wakeful throng.
All nature takes th'alarm; the fish forsake
The deep recesses of the silent lake,
And on the surface of the floods are seen,
While wanton lambkins sport upon the green.
The fairy elves assemble in a ring;
By Cynthia's silver light they dance and sing;
Beneath her gentle influence sport and play,
And nothing fear but the returning day.