Hail to thy cold and clouded beam
Pale pilgrim of the troubled sky!
Hail, though the mists that o'er thee stream
Lend to thy brow their sullen dye!
How should thy pure and peaceful eye
Untroubled view our scenes below,
Or how a tearless beam supply
To light a world of war and woe!
Fair Queen! I will not blame thee now,
As once by Greta's fairy side
Each little cloud that dimm'd thy brow
Did then an angel's beauty hide
And of the shades I then could chide
Still are the thoughts to memory dear
For, while a softer strain I tried,
They hid my blush, and calm'd my fear.
Then did I swear thy ray serene
Was form'd to light some lonely dell,
By two fond lovers only seen,
Reflected from the crystal well,
Or sleeping on their mossy cell
Or quivering on the lattice bright,
Or glancing on their couch, to tell
How swiftly wanes the summer night!