Stanzas.
The moon as brightly shines to-night,
The scene as lovely ought to be,
As when I gazed upon its light
And thought sweet Hope was born for me;
'Tis I am changed, and not the hour—
Alas! the darkness centres here;
No clouds about yon planet lower,
I only view it through a tear.
Soft, lovely orb! some smiling eye
Ev'n now reposes on thy beams,
Some maid that never breathed a sigh,
Forsakes for thee her tranquil dreams;
Methinks I view her buoyant breast,
And mark the hopes that tremble there;
I also dreamed that I was blest,
'Till waked from slumber by a tear.
F. L. B.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
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