Evening Star

'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.

From "Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe" 1827