Sonnet XCIII.

Yon soft Star, peering o'er the sable cloud,
Sheds its [1]green lustre thro' the darksome air. -
Haply in that mild Planet's crystal sphere
Live the freed Spirits, o'er whose timeless shroud
Swell'd my lone sighs, my tearful sorrows flow'd.
They, of these long regrets perhaps aware,
View them with pitying smiles. - O! then, if e'er
Your guardian cares may be on me bestow'd,
For the pure friendship of our youthful days,
Ere yet ye soar'd from earth, illume my heart,
That roves bewilder'd in Dejection's night,
And lead it back to peace! - as now ye dart,
From your pellucid mansion, the kind rays,
That thro' misleading darkness stream so bright.
1: The lustre of the brightest of the Stars always appeared to me of a green hue; and they are so described by Ossian.