Fair Planet of the Night

 To the Moon
by Charlotte Smith 

 Queen of the silver bow!--by thy pale beam,
 Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream,
 Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way.
And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light
 Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast;
And oft I think---fair planet of the night,
 That in thy orb the wretched may have rest:
The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go,
 Released by death---to thy benignant sphere;
And the sad children of Despair and Woe
 Forget, in thee, their cup of sorrow here.
Oh! that I soon may reach thy world serene,
Poor wearied pilgrim---in this toiling scene!