To the Moonbeam
Moonbeam, leave the shadowy vale, To bathe this burning brow. Moonbeam, why art thou so pale, As thou walkest o'er the dewy dale, Where humble...
This is a poetry & verse.
Moonbeam, leave the shadowy vale, To bathe this burning brow. Moonbeam, why art thou so pale, As thou walkest o'er the dewy dale, Where humble wild-flowers grow? Is it to mimic me? But that can never be; For thine orb is bright, And the clouds are light, That at intervals shadow the star-studded night. Now all is deathy still on earth; Nature's tired frame reposes; And, ere the golden morning's birth Its radiant hues discloses, Flies forth its balmy breath.…
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