Winter Evening At Home

Fair Moon, that at the chilly day's decline Of sharp December through my cottage pane Dost lovely look, smiling, though in thy wane! In thought, to scenes, serene and still as thine, Wanders my heart, whilst I by turns survey Thee slowly wheeling on thy evening way; And this my fire, whose dim, unequal light, Just glimmering, bids each shadowy image fall Sombrous and strange upon the darkening wall, Ere the clear tapers chase the deepening night! Yet thy still orb, seen through the freezing haze, Shines calm and clear without; and whilst I gaze, I think, around me in this twilight room, I but remark mortality's sad gloom; Whilst hope and joy cloudless and soft appear, In the sweet beam that lights thy distant sphere.