The moon dawned slow on the dusky gloaming
Dimly beside it gleamed a star
Broken, they shone on the waters foaming
Of the rapid Calabar

The lustrous moon the wailing river
Woke in my breast the voice of thought
In that calm hour I blessed the Giver
The Source whence ray & moan were brought
And while they gleamed & while they sung
I gave them life life & soul & tongue

I asked the river whence its stream
Rushed in resounding pride
And a voice like whispers in a dream
Thus solemnly replied

From the caverned earth I rose
Mortal like to thee
Ever-more my torrent flows
Sounding to the sea
Even as thy career will close
In vast eternity.

I asked the rising crescent moon
O'er what her bow was bent
And thus the sweet response came down
From heaven Earthward sent

Beneath my midnight wandering
How widely lies the earth
I view the streams meandering
To the ocean from its birth
I see the proud hill swelling
Where foot has never trod
The snows eternal dwelling
Beheld alone by God

Alike my rays are glancing
On cities filled with life
Where sounds of mirth & dancing
And harp & song are rife
And on the ruined tower
The rifted arch & dome
The fallen & trampled bower
The still, the desert home

Where fitful winds are sighing
Through temple, arch & hall
And slowly, calmly dying
With many a mild, faint fall
Sweet murmurs, sad decaying
Fill all the air with moans
Sounds through the desert straying
Blent, mingled, nameless tones

Sounds of the palm-tree shaken
Sounds of the lonely well
Whose fairy murmurs waken
To the Zephyr's softest swell
The waving of a pinion
The desert wild deer's tread
And heard in that dominion
Of silence deep & dead

I see beneath me spreading
Dark visions of the slain
For my orb it's light is shedding
O'er many a battle plain
Where hero's famed in story
Their deeds of war have done
And gained a crown of glory
For mighty conflicts won

Where sunless clouds are sweeping
Shades of eternal Gloom
Yet my beams in peace are sleeping
Above the warriors tomb
My gentlest, mildest splendour
Is poured above their dust
Whence earth at last shall render
The brave, the good, the just

If mid the desert dreary
Far, far from war & strife
Should rest the heroic weary
Rest from the toil of life
Though no shade be o'er him given
Though the pale sand be his shroud
Yet above him, bright in heaven
My silver arch is bowed

If to the wilds denying
That high & holy trust
The warriors corpse is lying
Amid ancestral dust
Still lovelier is the lustre
that lingers round his tomb
And lights the trees that cluster
Above his last, dark home.