Poem by Mary Wortley Montagu

A Hymn to the Moon

Written in July, in an arbour

Thou silver deity of secret night,
Direct my footsteps through the woodland shade;
Thou conscious witness of unknown delight,
The Lover's guardian, and the Muse's aid!
By thy pale beams I solitary rove,
To thee my tender grief confide;
Serenely sweet you gild the silent grove,
My friend, my goddess, and my guide.
E'en thee, fair queen, from thy amazing height,
The charms of young Endymion drew;
Veil'd with the mantle of concealing night;
With all thy greatness and thy coldness too. 

1. Town Eclogues: Monday; Roxana, or the Drawing-Room
2. An Elegy on Mrs. Thompson
3. To a Friend on His Travels
4. Verses Addressed to the Imitator...
5. Friday, the Toilette

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