Moon Quotes

Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling more

Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,
Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup,
And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but
one moon.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but
one moon.

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now more

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now bright and sunny--
But of all the lunar things that change,
The one that shows most fickle and strange,
And takes the most eccentric range,
Is the moon--so called--of honey!

Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that more

Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that huntress of the silver bow
Fabled of old? Or rather dost thou tread
Those cloudy summits thence to gaze below,
Like the wild chamois from her Alpine snow,
Where hunters never climbed--secure from dread?

The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
more

The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her,
Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.

Lend me thy pen
To write a word
In the moonlight.
Pierrot, my friend!
more

Lend me thy pen
To write a word
In the moonlight.
Pierrot, my friend!
My candle's out,
I've no more fire;--
For love of God
Open thy door!
[Fr., Au clair de la lune
Mon ami Pierrot,
Prete moi ta plume
Pour ecrire un mot;
Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n'ai plus de feu,
Ouvre moi ta porte,
Pour l'amour de Dieu.]

Now Cynthia, named fair regent of the night.

Now Cynthia, named fair regent of the night.

On the road, the lonely road,
Under the cold, white moon;
Under the rugged trees he strode,
more

On the road, the lonely road,
Under the cold, white moon;
Under the rugged trees he strode,
Whistled and shifted his heavy load--
Whistled a foolish tune.

He who would see old Hoghton right
Must view it by the pale moonlight.

He who would see old Hoghton right
Must view it by the pale moonlight.

As the moon's fair image quaketh
In the raging waves of ocean,
Whilst she, in the vault more

As the moon's fair image quaketh
In the raging waves of ocean,
Whilst she, in the vault of heaven,
Moves with silent peaceful motion.