by John Corry
AN ODE .
The setting sun illumes the skies
With Light's enchanting vivid dyes,
Crown'd with his own resplendent rays,
That upward shoot a golden blaze;
But, while we gaze, the colours fade,
And Twilight's solemn, gradual shade
Hides Nature's charms; and gloomy Night
Now shuts the prospect from our sight.
Thick clouds the starry concave veil,
And not a sound glides on the gale,
Save the dull owl's discordant cry;
And not an object meets the eye,
Save where the cot its shelter rears,
A speck of trembling light appears.
This horrid gloom excites the fear
Of the lone trav'ller, wand'ring near
The cemetery, all aghast,
He startles at each hollow blast,
And frighted Fancy, to his eyes,
Makes spectres from the graves arise.
Darkness! the mariner's worst foe,
When, loud, the sweeping tempests blow,
No rays of heav'nly light illume
His course, amid the pathless gloom;
Perhaps, dash'd on some rocky coast,
The ship and all her crew are lost.
Last updated November 29, 2022