html website builder

Pale wanderer in the azure field
That blossometh with stars,
Why guard thy breast with silver shield,
Whose dream no sorrow mars?
And why so fickle in thy round
Through realms celestial and profound?


And why, with ever-smiling face,
O'er golden pathways lone,
Dost thou at eve delight to chase
Dim shadows, all thine own,
Yet beautiful, and lovely too,
As rosy nymphs that brush the dew?


And why in thine employ retain
That archer ever bold
Who aims at maiden and at swain
His arrows tipped with gold,
Yet strives to soothe, with winning art
And holiest vow, the wounded heart?


Empress of Love! 'tis ever thine
To wield a magic power,
That's earthly half, and half divine;
And thine the witching hour
When pledges sweet are often given,
Yet only true when sealed in heaven.