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1779–1852

SHINE OUT, STARS!

Thomas Moore

Shine out, Stars! let Heaven assemble Round us every festal ray, Lights that move not, lights that tremble, All to grace this Eve of May.

Let the flower-beds all lie waking, And the odors shut up there, From their downy prisons breaking, Fly abroad thro sea and air.

And Would Love, too, bring his sweetness, With our other joys to weave, Oh what glory, what completeness, Then would crown this bright May Eve!

Shine out, Stars! let night assemble Round us every festal ray, Lights that move not, lights that tremble, To adorn this Eve of May.

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SHINE OUT, STARS! · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove