THE sky low down in distant West, is tinged
with golden hue,
While all the glorious vault above is one bright
mass of blue.
Now as I still gaze in the West, my favorite star I see,
A diamond bright, queen of the night, the
evening star for me.
Some love the war like star of Mars: he pleaseth
not my eyes;
Some say that Jupiter is bright: his looks I
The morning star is passing fair, but still I love
For none to me shines lovingly, as Venus
(*) Written when Venus was evening star.
on my cot.
Now the pale moon, as if in love, is sending from
Her tender beams upon the field, where, Mary,
you and I
So oft have stood at close of day, and talked our
Love, children, cooks, our thoughts of books, our
prospects, hopes and fears.
Now standing out in bold relief, I see your cottage
The once green trees are bare of leaves, they fell
at winter's blight.
All is so still! No light is there, I know you
are at rest;
May slumber's light be yours this night--may you
ever be blest.
Soon, very soon, for aught we know, our pathway
But, Mary, will you think of me, when I'm not by
39And oh! look on, with pitying eye, in distant,
My virtues few, my friendship true, and o'er my
faults shed tears.