Song to the Evening Star
Star that bringest home the bee,And sett'st the weary labourer free!If any star shed peace, 'tis thou,That send'st it from above,Appearing when Heaven's breath and browAre sweet as hers we love.
Come to the luxuriant skiesWhilst the landscape's odours rise,Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard,And songs, when toil is done,From cottages whose smoke unstirredCurls yellow in the sun.
Star of lover's soft interviews,Parted lovers on thee muse;Their remembrancer in heavenOf thrilling vows thou art,Too delicious to be rivenBy absence from the heart.
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