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Charlotte Smith - Sonnet LXXX. To The Invisible Moon
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DARK and conceal`d art thou, soft Evening`s queen, 
And Melancholy`s votaries that delight
To watch thee, gliding through the blue serene,
Now vainly seek thee on the brow of night--
Mild Sorrow, such as hope has not forsook,
May love to muse beneath thy silent reign;
But I prefer from some steep rock to look
On the obscure and fluctuating main,
What time the martial star with lurid glare,
Portentous, gleams above the troubled deep;
Or the red comet shakes his blazing hair;
Or on the fire-ting`d waves the lightnings leap;
While thy fair beams illume another sky,
And shine for beings less accursed than I.
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