1827
                                  EVENING STAR
                               by Edgar Allan Poe
 
              'Twas noontide of summer,
                And mid-time of night;
              And stars, in their orbits,
                Shone pale, thro' the light
              Of the brighter, cold moon,
                'Mid planets her slaves,
              Herself in the Heavens,
                Her beam on the waves.
                  I gazed awhile
                  On her cold smile;
              Too cold- too cold for me-
                There pass'd, as a shroud,
                A fleecy cloud,
              And I turned away to thee,
                Proud Evening Star,
                In thy glory afar,
              And dearer thy beam shall be;
                For joy to my heart
                Is the proud part
              Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
                And more I admire
                Thy distant fire,
              Than that colder, lowly light.
 
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