EVENING STAR

by Edgar Allan Poe
(1827)

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.

-- THE END --