Those humble flow’rs which briefly bloom
May ask a sunbeam’s aid;
But nobler blossoms yield perfume
And live in midnight shade.
Love, in its gay meridian bright,
Oft dazzles with its blaze:
But modest Friendship’s lunar light
The constant eye repays.
To sainted “urn” or festive bow’r
Next mellow light she lends;
Soft music waits her sober hour,
And balmy dew descends.
Beneath the fiery pomp of noon
The fainting pilgrim sighs;
But safe beneath the placid moon
In peaceful sleep he lies!
Reflected in her gentle face
The absent sun is seen;
And oft departed love we trace
In amity serene.
When Passion’s glowing orb is set,
The moon of friendship reigns:
Life’s vanish’d splendors we forget —
A softer light remains!