Vainly, ye blessed twinklers of the night,

Your feeble beams ye shed,

Quench’d in the unnatural light which might out-stare

Even the broad eye of day;

And thou from thy celestial way

Pourest, O Moon, an ineffectual ray!

For lo! ten thousand torches flame and flare

Upon the midnight air,

Blotting the lights of heaven

With one portentous glare.

Behold the fragrant smoke in many a fold,

Ascending floats along the fiery sky,

And hangeth visible on high,

A dark and waving canopy.