Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/61

 Ah Flowers! which Joy from Eden stole While Innocence stood smiling by!— But cease, fond Heart! this bootless moan. Those Hours on rapid Pinions flown Shall yet return, by crown'd, And scatter livelier roses round.

The, who ne'er remits his fires On heedless eyes may pour the day: The Moon, that oft from Heav'n retires, Endears her renovated ray. What tho' she leave the sky unblest To mourn awhile in murky vest? When she resumes her lovely Light, We the Wanderer of the Night.