On The Moon Poem by Thomas Odiorne

LO! half emerg'd from realms of eastern waves,
The moon her face in ocean-azure laves:
She lifts her head, and casts, in cheerful light,
Refulgent glory on the brow of Night!
At length, in clouds, the darkling vapours glow;
Their foamy skirts are like the drifted snow;
The stars dim-twinkling through their forms appear,
As through the ghosts of Ossian, half in fear;
While planets round their brilliant beams dispense,
And earth expands in bright magnificence.
The gazing nations all the scene behold,
And tales repeat, which other years have told;
All hearts are fill'd with wonderful delight,
When Cynthia comes to radiate the Night.
So, through her courtly hall, majestic moves
An empire's queen, whom every heart approves;
Upon her steps a host of peers attend;
A train of courtiers in her presence bend;
With pleas'd discourse the lingering hours beguile,
Praise all her charms, rejoice in every smile;
Yet not so fair by thousand times she seems,
As Cynthia, empress of the silver beams!