46 



NIGHT IN TOWN. 



Now blinking SOL puts on his night-cap 



And snugly, in the clouds, doth tight wrap 



His wearied corpus, as, with mournful yawn, 



He grieves, at thought of getting up at dawn 



When, spent with toil, the drowsy monarch snores, 



Old mother Night the sable curtain draws, 



Illumes the winking tapers of the sky, 



And bids her maiden, pensive Cynthia, nigh, 



To wait till morn, and silent vigil keep, 



Sola, upon her snoring lover s sleep. 



Cynthia, who long has watched, and watching 



loved, 



Though, e en herself her rising love reproved 

 Who, for her god, in amorous longing, sighs, 

 And mourns, when fades his glory from the skies ; 

 But, when refulgent, shuns his warm embrace, 

 Nor dares the awful splendors of his face. 

 So gentle hearts in secrecy maintain 

 The restless tumult of love s pleasing pain, 



