Edward Coote Pinkney

“ Sleep not!—from her soft sleep should fly,
Who robs all hearts of rest.
Nay, Lady, from thy slumbers break,
And make this darkness gay,
With looks, whose brightness well might make
Of darker nights a day. ”

“ Look out upon the stars, my love,
And shame them with thine eyes,
On which, than on the lights above,
There hang more destinies. ”