Timid and fair; or, bright in regal robes,  
 Dost bid thy full orb’d chariot proudly roll,  
 Sweeping with silent rein the starry path  
 Up to the highest node,—then plunging low  
 To seek dim Nadir in his misty cell.— 
 —Lov’st thou our earth, that thou dost hold thy lamp  
 To guide and cheer her, when the wearied sun  
 Forsakes her?—Sometimes, roving on, thou shedd’st  
 The eclipsing blot ungrateful, on that sire  
 Who feeds thy urn with light,—but sinking deep  
 ’Neath the dark shadow of the earth dost mourn  
 And find thy retribution. 
         		              	—Dost thou hold 
 Dalliance with ocean, that his mighty heart 
 Tosses at thine approach, and his mad tides,