George Pope Morris
The Star Of Love.
The star of love now shines above,
Cool zephyrs crisp the sea;
Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves
Its serenade for thee.
The star, the breeze, the wave, the trees,
Their minstrelsy unite,
But all are drear till thou appear
To decorate the night.
The light of noon streams from the moon,
Though with a milder ray
O'er hill and grove, like woman's love,
It cheers us on our way.
Thus all that's bright--the moon, the night,
The heavens, the earth, the sea,
Exert their powers to bless the hours
We dedicate to thee.
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