THE MOON
The moon has risen from her cloudy bed,
And soared serenely into cloudless blue,
White as a lily in a haze of dew,
Pale lady, to the Summer Darkness wed—
She leaves her nuptial couch, by breezes spread,
And seeks her virgin solitude anew;
While all the being of the Dark thrills through
With memories, the while her stately head
She lifts above him to the purer height,