While Gazing On The Moon's Light.

While gazing on the moon's light,         A moment from her smile I turned,     To look at orbs, that, more bright,         In lone and distant glory burned.                     But too far                     Each proud star,         For me to feel its warming flame;                     Much more dear                     That mild sphere.         Which near our planet smiling came;     Thus, Mary, be but thou my own;         While brighter eyes unheeded play,     I'll love those moonlight looks alone,         That bless my home and guide my way.     The day had sunk in dim showers,         But midnight now, with lustre meet.     Illumined all the pale flowers,         Like hope upon a mourner's cheek.                     I said (while                     The moon's smile         Played o'er a stream, in dimpling bliss,)                     "The moon looks                     "On many brooks,         "The brook can see no moon but this;"[1]     And thus, I thought, our fortunes run,         For many a lover looks to thee,     While oh! I feel there is but one,         One Mary in the world for me.