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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.
On the road, the lonely road,
Under the cold, white moon;
Under the rugged trees he strode,
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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.
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now read 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!
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
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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.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the read more
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth.
The moving moon went up to the sky,
And nowhere did abide;
Softly she was going up,
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The moving moon went up to the sky,
And nowhere did abide;
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside.
'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon, batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, hangs silent on the read more
'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon, batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven.
