James Freeman Clarke

“ So full-orbed Cynthia walks the skies, Filling the earth with melodies, Even so she condescends to kiss Drowsy Endymions, coarse and dull, Or fills our waking souls with bliss, Making long nights too beautiful. III. O fair, but fickle lady-moon, Why must thy full form ever wane? O love! O friendship! why so soon Must your sweet light recede again? I wake me in the dead of night, And start, — for through the misty gloom Red Hecate stares — a boding sight! — Looks in, but never fills my room. Thou music of my boyhood's hour! Thou shining light on manhood's way! ”