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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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?

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,
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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.