Evening Star By Edgar Allan Poe

‘Twas noontide of summer,
               And mid-time of night;
             And stars, in their orbits,
               Shone pale, thro’ the light
             Of the brighter, cold moon,
               ‘Mid planets her slaves,
             Herself in the Heavens,
               Her beam on the waves.
                 I gazed awhile
                 On her cold smile;
             Too cold- too cold for me-
               There pass’d, as a shroud,
               A fleecy cloud,
             And I turned away to thee,
               Proud Evening Star,
               In thy glory afar,
             And dearer thy beam shall be;
               For joy to my heart
               Is the proud part
             Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
               And more I admire
               Thy distant fire,
             Than that colder, lowly light.