The sun is dead-ye heard the curfew toll
Come Nature let us mourn our kindred doom
My Sun like thine is dead and o’er my Soul
Despair’s dark midnight spreads her raven gloom—
Yes she is gone he call’d her to illume
The realms where Heavn’s immortal rivers roll
Who bids thy Sun O nature shed the bloom
Of light and life upon a happier pole.
Yet soon thy Sun shall wake his sister light
And lo the shades of Darkness roll away
She too shall soon from her [ ] height
Pour o’er my breast Religion’s moonlight ray,
To chear me through my long and lonely night
Till Heav’n’s bright Morn lead on the eternal day.