O! God of heaven, to Thee I bow!
⁠And raise by night my humble strain,
⁠The voice of my consuming pain.

⁠Thee, also, friendly Moon! I hail;
1 always loved thee dear:
⁠Thou, Queen of heaven! me ne'er didst fail,
In fortunes fair or drear,
To guide, to counsel, and to cheer:
⁠Thou know'st how oft, to enjoy thy ray,
⁠I chide the blaze and heat of day.

⁠Oft seated on the wide sea- shore,
Whose waves reflected thee,
⁠To muse alone, thou smiling o'er,
I pass'd the night hours free;
And 'midst my clouded hopes to see
⁠Thy face serene, I found relief,
⁠In sweet complaint to pour my grief.

⁠For throbs, alas! my breast with pain,
Consumption's wounds to bear;
⁠And pales my cheek, as thou must wane
Beneath the morning's glare.
When I shall sink, grant this my prayer,
⁠That thy light ne'er to shine defer,