I see them on their winding way.
Above their ranks the moonbeams play.
* * * * *
And waving arms and banners bright
Are glancing in the mellow light.
Lines written to a March. BISHOP R. HEBER.
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who called 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!
Don Juan. Canto I. LORD BYRON.
Faery elves,
Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheels her pale course.
Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
Day glimmered in the east, and the white Moon
Hung like a vapor in the cloudless sky.
Italy: Lake of Geneva. S. ROGERS.
MORNING.
But soft! methinks I scent the morning air.
Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Look, the gentle day,
Before the wheels of Phoebus, roundabout,
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray.
Much Ado about Nothing, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.