An Answer to Stella

Miss Flaxman

From her ever faithful Moth

Vapours and clouds may sometimes rise
In fleecy squadrons to the skies,
And hide from our weak mortal eyes
 Each planet bright — 
And in some inauspicious hour
Tho’ passing clouds may seem to lour,
The Polar Star retains her power
 Unseen her light.

No “newer star” Moth hovers round,
No newer star will e’er be found,
To which by sweet attraction bound
 She’ll love to flee — 
For Stella, thou’rt her wishes goal
In absence, they Phaloena’s soul
True as the needle to the Pole,
 Still turns to thee.

November 26th 1811