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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?
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.
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!
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.
Doth the moon care for the barking of a dog?
Doth the moon care for the barking of a dog?
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!
'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.
And hail their queen, fair regent of the night.
And hail their queen, fair regent of the night.
