_Lines written to a March_. BISHOP R. HEBER.
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who called her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their nomenclature; there is not a day,
The longest, not the twenty-first of June,
Sees half the business in a wicked way.
On which three single hours of moonshine smile--
And then she looks so modest all the while!
_Don Juan. Canto I_. LORD BYRON.
Faery elves,
Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. I_. MILTON.
Day glimmered in the east, and the white Moon
Hung like a vapor in the cloudless sky.
_Italy: Lake of Geneva_. S. ROGERS.
MORNING.
But soft! methinks I scent the morning air.
_Hamlet, Act_ i. _Sc_. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
_Hamlet, Act_ i. _Sc_. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Look, the gentle day,
Before the wheels of Phoebus, roundabout,
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray.
_Much Ado about Nothing, Act_ v. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Till morning fair
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray.
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