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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.
The moon is a silver pin-head vast,
That holds the heaven's tent-hangings fast.
The moon is a silver pin-head vast,
That holds the heaven's tent-hangings fast.
The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs read more
The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs that hover in the summer sky
Are all asleep to-night.
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.
When the hollow drum has beat to bed
And the little fifer hangs his head,
When all read more
When the hollow drum has beat to bed
And the little fifer hangs his head,
When all is mute the Moorish flute,
And nodding guards watch wearily,
On, then let me,
From prison free,
March out by moonlight cheerily.
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their read more
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their nomenclature; there is not a day,
The longest, not the twenty-first of June,
Sees half the business in a wicked way,
On which three single hours of moonshine smile--
And then she looks so modest all the while!
As the moon's fair image quaketh
In the raging waves of ocean,
Whilst she, in the vault read 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.
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon
From the slow opening curtains of the clouds
read more
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon
From the slow opening curtains of the clouds
Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!
'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.