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Star of the morn! whose dull, inconstant gleam
Is fading at the opening gates of day,
How fit an emblem is thy waning beam
Of hopes, once bright as was thy rising ray,
Now gone, like thee dissolved in light away!
Our air-built halls—how bright, yet how untrue!
Like the miräge, that with its fair display,
Oft landsmen in the cloud of ocean view,
Which, while thereon they gaze, fades into heaven's blue!
Is fading at the opening gates of day,
How fit an emblem is thy waning beam
Of hopes, once bright as was thy rising ray,
Now gone, like thee dissolved in light away!
Our air-built halls—how bright, yet how untrue!
Like the miräge, that with its fair display,
Oft landsmen in the cloud of ocean view,
Which, while thereon they gaze, fades into heaven's blue!
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