Classic Poem

O Moon! if e'er I joyed when thy soft light
Danced to the murmuring rill on Lomond's wave,
Or sighed for thy sweet presence some dark night,
When thou wert hidden in thy monthly grave:
If e'er, on wings which active fancy gave,
I sought thy golden vales with daring flight,
Then, stretched at ease in some sequestered cave,
Gazed on thy lovely Nymphs with fond delight,
Thy Nymphs with more than earthly beauty bright!
If e'er thy beam, as Smyrna's shepherds tell,
Soft as the gentle kiss of amorous maid
On the closed eyes of young ENDYMION fell,
That he might wake to clasp thee in the shade;
Each night, while I recline within this cell,
Guide hither, O sweet MOON! the maid I love so well!