Margaret Chalmers (Маргарет Чалмерс)
Address to the Evening Star
THOU brightest queen of myriads bright,
Again thy lustre dost renew!
Again thou gild'st the brow of night,
And thee again I'm spar'd to view.
What numbers have resign'd their breath,
And wing'd from earth their mystic way!
How many eyes are clos'd in death,
Which witness'd thy declining ray.
When gentle spring to summer yields,
And thou and thy bright hosts to Sol;
(Who circling through ethereal fields
Flings duskless splendour round the Pole.)
Then, as I've stray'd in pensive mood
When fainter twilight dimm'd thy view,
I stopt, and as I ling'ring stood,
Breath'd an uncertain, soft adieu.
Since thou in Solar radiance lost
From our keen gaze hast been withdrawn,
Each planet of the starry host
Hath aided nature's general plan.
Laborious man had in the ground
Deposited the precious grain;
With success be his labours crown'd,
Nor be his hopes nor prayers vain!
Now has the sun perform'd his part,
Now Cynthia lend thy ripening beam,
"Breathe joy into the reaper's heart,"
Whose toils are lighted by thy gleam.
And thou, O thought-inspiring star,
Adorn the azure arch of night;
While autumn's treasures wave afar,
Shed on the mind serene delight.
When from a wintry cloud the sun
Emits a sullen, transient beam;
Hope hints, that when his course is run
Night will in silver radiance stream.
And if the air, refin'd by frost,
Pours heighten'd lustre on the eye,
In pious adoration lost,
We through the glories of the sky
Trace Him by whom the starry frame
Amid the void of space was hung,
The moon's mild light, the sun's bright beam,
From whose creative mandate sprung.
When we shall quit this frame of dust,
And thee from earth no more shall see;
O! may we join the blessed just,
Who from on high look down on thee.
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