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!

Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are foosteps on the moon.

Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are foosteps on the moon.

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.

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.

Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.

Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.

Into the sunset's turquoise marge
The moon dips, like a pearly barge;
Enchantment sails through magic seas,
read more

Into the sunset's turquoise marge
The moon dips, like a pearly barge;
Enchantment sails through magic seas,
To fairland Hesperides,
Over the hills and away.

The sun had sunk and the summer skies
Were dotted with specks of light
That melted soon read more

The sun had sunk and the summer skies
Were dotted with specks of light
That melted soon in the deep moon-rise
That flowed over Groton Height.

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

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.