William B. Tappan (1794–1849)

BRIGHT Star, while thou thy lonely way

Pursu’st in yon expanse of blue,

Thy gem-like form and steady ray

Attract the heedless peasant’s view,

And his, whose thoughts to unknown regions stray.

Full oft the wanderer, fortune’s child,

Benighted, sad, and doom’d to roam,

Beholds with joy thy aspect mild,

That tells of happiness and home,

And guides him onward ’mid the trackless wild.

Oft, too, the sea-boy marks thy beam,

When ocean sleeps in peaceful calm;

While o’er its breast thy gentle gleam

Plays wanton, and with sacred charm

Lulls the wrapt soul in fancy’s pleasing dream.

And oft, sweet Star, at even-tide,

When all around is hush’d to rest,

My thoughts ascend, and pensive glide

To distant climes and regions blest,

Where wo-worn care and grief would gladly hide.

And fancy whispers in mine ear,

That those who once were here beloved,

To friendship and affection dear,

Now from this fleeting scene removed,

Repose, bright Star, in thy ethereal sphere.