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 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! 
 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 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! 
 The moving moon went up to the sky,
 And nowhere did abide;
  Softly she was going up,
read more 
 The moving moon went up to the sky,
 And nowhere did abide;
  Softly she was going up,
   And a star or two beside. 
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.
 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. 
 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. 
 On the road, the lonely road,
 Under the cold, white moon;
  Under the rugged trees he strode,
read more 
 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. 
'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.