A SONG TO THE MOON.

Thou, lamp! the gods benignly gave,

To light a lover on his way;

Thou, Moon! along the silv'ry wave,

Ah! safe this flutt'ring heart convey:—

Sweet is thy light, and sweet thy shade,

The guide and guardian of our bliss,

A lover's panting lips to lead,

Or veil him in the ravish'd kiss.

Her white robe floats upon the air;

My Lyra hears the dashing oar:

Ye floods, oh! speed me to my fair!

My soul is with her long before.

Oh! lightly haste, thy lover view,

And ev'ry anxious fear resign;

Ye tow'rs, no longer fear'd, adieu!

The treasure which ye held is mine!