To Donald

Miss Vardill

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!