September 15 to 30

The Evening Star

See how her body pants and glows,

See how see shakes her silver wings!

Ten thousand stars, and more, are mute,

And she, and she alone, that sings.

Ten thousand stars, and more, are mute,

All listening in the quiet sky,

While that bright star sings wildly there,

And happy they hear more than I.

Bring me my strange invention now,

That I may sit at home in ease

And have fresh music brought by air

From towns beyond the curly seas.

In vain, in vain; the power to hear

The music of those heavenly spheres

Is but a wild, fantastic dream-

But who can read the unborn years?