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LINES.
THOU Moon, that now with melancholy grace
Glidest athwart the clear and wintry sky,
As calmly shining on the frost-bound earth,
As when it basked in Summer's deep repose,
I love to gaze upon thy queenly brow,
Shining, like other monarchs of this earth,
Surrounded by thy stars, and yet alone,
And feel thou art the same, the very same,
That first delighted childhood's upturned eye
And glowing heart, with visions bright as fair,
And seemed a world of wonders to enfold
Within thy glittering ring. No marvel then
Appeared too wild, too wondrous, to believe;
And fancy peopled soon thine airy realms,
With beings, varied as the countless dreams
Of joyous infancy. For who can paint
The unsought pleasures of that early time,
When every outward form that meets the eye,
Or sound that strikes the ear, but seems to wake
New springs of happiness, fresh founts of joy,
That gush unceasing from the exhaustless wells
Of childhood's glowing heart? But never more
Can ye return again, bright cloudless days;
For care and pain were then alike to ye