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He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no;
That would, as read more
He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no;
That would, as soon as e'er she shone straight,
Whether 'twere day or night demonstrate;
Tell what her d'ameter to an inch is,
And prove that she's not made of green cheese.
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
read 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.
And hail their queen, fair regent of the night.
And hail their queen, fair regent of the night.
There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.
There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.
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.
Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that read 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?
'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.
Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling read 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.
