TO THE MOON

Related poetry:

1. At the Mid Hour of Night At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love […]...
2. Ode to the Moon PALE GODDESS of the witching hour; Blest Contemplation’s placid friend; Oft in my solitary bow’r, I mark thy lucid beam From thy crystal car descend, Whitening the spangled heath, and limpid sapphire stream. And oft, amidst the shades of night I court thy undulating light; When Fairies dance around the verdant ring, Or frisk beside […]...
3. The Moon, how definite its orb! (fragment) The Moon, how definite its orb! Yet gaze again, and with a steady gaze ‘Tis there indeed, but where is it not? It is suffused o’er all the sapphire Heaven, Trees, herbage, snake-like stream, unwrinkled Lake, Whose very murmur does of it partake And low and close the broad smooth mountain Is more a thing […]...
4. The Moon Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light, Thou seemest most charming to my sight; As I gaze upon thee in the sky so high, A tear of joy does moisten mine eye. Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light, Thou cheerest the Esquimau in the night; For thou lettest him see to harpoon the fish, And with […]...
5. TO THE RISING FULL MOON Dornburg, 25th August, 1828. WILT thou suddenly enshroud thee, Who this moment wert so nigh? Heavy rising masses cloud thee, Thou art hidden from mine eye. Yet my sadness thou well knowest, Gleaming sweetly as a star! That I’m loved, ’tis thou that showest, Though my loved one may be far. Upward mount then! clearer, […]...
6. 342. Song-Sweet Afton FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stockdove whose echo resounds thro’ the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing thy screaming forbear, […]...
7. I've a Secret to Tell Thee I’ve a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps: I’ll seek, to whisper it in thine ear, Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps; Where Summer’s wave unmurmuring dies, Nor fay can hear the fountain’s gush; Where, if but a note her night-bird sighs, The […]...
8. Upon The Circumcision Ye flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright, That erst with Musick, and triumphant song First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear, So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along Through the soft silence of the list’ning night; Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear Your fiery essence can distill no tear, Burn […]...
9. Under the Moon Under the crescent moon’s faint glow The washerman’s bat resounds afar, And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly. But my heart has gone to the Tartar war, To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow, Calling my husband back to me....
10. You know that Portrait in the Moon You know that Portrait in the Moon So tell me who ’tis like The very Brow the stooping eyes A fog for Say Whose Sake? The very Pattern of the Cheek It varies in the Chin But Ishmael since we met ’tis long And fashions intervene When Moon’s at full ‘Tis Thou I say My […]...
11. To Caroline Think’st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Suffus’d in tears, implore to stay; And heard unmov’d thy plenteous sighs, Which said far more than words can say? Though keen the grief thy tears exprest, When love and hope lay both o’erthrown; Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast Throbb’d, with deep sorrow, as thine own. […]...
12. While Gazing on the Moon's Light While gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me to feel its warming flame; Much more dear That mild sphere, Which near our planet smiling came; Thus, Mary, be but […]...
13. Thief of the Moon Thief of the moon, thou robber of old delight, Thy charms have stolen the star-gold, quenched the moon – Cold, cold are the birds that, bubbling out of night, Cried once to my ears their unremembered tune – Dark are those orchards, their leaves no longer shine, No orange’s gold is globed like moonrise there […]...
14. THE SADNESS OF THE MOON THE Moon more indolently dreams to-night Than a fair woman on her couch at rest, Caressing, with a hand distraught and light, Before she sleeps, the contour of her breast. Upon her silken avalanche of down, Dying she breathes a long and swooning sigh; And watches the white visions past her flown, Which rise like […]...
15. Psalm XXIII The shepherd Christ from heav’n arriv’d, My flesh and spirit feeds; I shall not therefore be depriv’d Of all my nature needs. As slop’d against the glist’ning beam The velvet verdure swells, He keeps, and leads me by the stream Where consolation dwells. My soul He shall from sin restore, And her free pow’rs awake, […]...
16. Moon over Mountain Pass A bright moon rising above Tian Shan Mountain, Lost in a vast ocean of clouds. The long wind, across thousands upon thousands of miles, Blows past the Jade-gate Pass. The army of Han has gone down the Baiteng Road, As the barbarian hordes probe at Qinghai Bay. It is known that from the battlefield Few […]...
17. The Landrail How sweet and pleasant grows the way Through summer time again While Landrails call from day to day Amid the grass and grain We hear it in the weeding time When knee deep waves the corn We hear it in the summers prime Through meadows night and morn And now I hear it in the […]...
18. The Vernal Age WHERE the pheasant roosts at night, Lonely, drowsy, out of sight, Where the evening breezes sigh Solitary, there stray I. Close along the shaded stream, Source of many a youthful dream, Where branchy cedars dim the day There I muse, and there I stray. Yet, what can please amid this bower, That charmed the eye […]...
19. Late Moon 2 a. m. December, and still no mon Rising from the river. My mother Home from the beer garden Stands before the open closet Her hands still burning. She smooths the fur collar, The scarf, opens the gloves Crumpled like letters. Nothing is lost She says to the darkness, nothing. The moon finally above the […]...
20. 419. Bonie Jean: A Ballad THERE was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie’s wark, And aye she sang sae merrilie; The blythest bird upon the bush Had ne’er a lighter heart than she. But […]...
21. The Moon Thy beauty haunts me heart and soul, Oh, thou fair Moon, so close and bright; Thy beauty makes me like the child That cries aloud to own thy light: The little child that lifts each arm To press thee to her bosom warm. Though there are birds that sing this night With thy white beams […]...
22. Hymn of the City Not in the solitude Alone may man commune with heaven, or see Only in savage wood And sunny vale, the present Deity; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty! here, amidst the crowd, Through the great city rolled, With everlasting murmur […]...
23. To The Sad Moon With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What! May it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case: I read it in thy looks; thy […]...
24. Psalm 90 Man mortal, and God eternal A mournful song at a funeral. Through every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heav’n was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid. Long hadst thou reigned ere time began, Or dust was fashioned to a man; And long thy kingdom […]...
25. Sonnet III: To a Nightingale Poor melancholy bird – that all night long Tell’st to the Moon, thy tale of tender woe; From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow, And whence this mournful melody of song? Thy poet’s musing fancy would translate What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast, When still at dewy eve thou leav’st […]...
26. The dead babe Last night, as my dear babe lay dead, In agony I knelt and said: “0 God! what have I done, Or in what wise offended Thee, That Thou should’st take away from me My little son? “Upon the thousand useless lives, Upon the guilt that vaunting thrives, Thy wrath were better spent! Why should’st Thou […]...
27. Sonnet XXXI: With How Sad Steps, O Moon With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heav’nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case, I read it in thy looks; […]...
28. On The Night Train Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry; Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky? Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold: “I’m the Mother-Bush […]...
29. In The Cool Of The Evening I thought I heard Him calling. Did you hear A sound, a little sound? My curious ear Is dinned with flying noises, and the tree Goes whisper, whisper, whisper silently Till all its whispers spread into the sound Of a dull roar. Lie closer to the ground, The shade is deep and He may pass […]...
30. FROM 'THE SORROWS OF YOUNG WERTHER.&#039 [Prefixed to the second edition.] EV’RY youth for love’s sweet portion sighs, Ev’ry maiden sighs to win man’s love; Why, alas! should bitter pain arise From the noblest passion that we prove? Thou, kind soul, bewailest, lov’st him well, From disgrace his memory’s saved by thee; Lo, his spirit signs from out its cell: BE […]...
31. The Last Quarter of the Moon How long shall I tarnish the mirror of life, A spatter of rust on its polished steel! The seasons reel Like a goaded wheel. Half-numb, half-maddened, my days are strife. The night is sliding towards the dawn, And upturned hills crouch at autumn’s knees. A torn moon flees Through the hemlock trees, The hours have […]...
32. My Song This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like The fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of Blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in Your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence […]...
33. EVER AND EVERYWHERE FAR explore the mountain hollow, High in air the clouds then follow! To each brook and vale the Muse Thousand times her call renews. Soon as a flow’ret blooms in spring, It wakens many a strain; And when Time spreads his fleeting wing, The seasons come again. 1820.*...
34. The Night – Wind In summer’s mellow midnight, A cloudless moon shone through Our open parlour window, And rose-trees wet with dew. I sat in silent musing; The soft wind waved my hair; It told me heaven was glorious, And sleeping earth was fair. I needed not its breathing To bring such thoughts to me; But still it whispered […]...
35. TO BELINDA [This song was also written for Lily. Goethe Mentions, at the end of his Autobiography, that he overheard her Singing it one evening after he had taken his last farewell of her.] WHEREFORE drag me to yon glittering eddy, With resistless might? Was I, then, not truly blest already In the silent night? In my […]...
36. To The Moon Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?...
37. The Moon of Other Days Beneath the deep veranda’s shade, When bats begin to fly, I sit me down and watch alas! Another evening die. Blood-red behind the sere ferash She rises through the haze. Sainted Diana! can that be The Moon of Other Days? Ah! shade of little Kitty Smith, Sweet Saint of Kensington! Say, was it ever thus […]...
38. A Poison Tree I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I waterd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both […]...
39. The Phases Of The Moon An old man cocked his car upon a bridge; He and his friend, their faces to the South, Had trod the uneven road. Their hoots were soiled, Their Connemara cloth worn out of shape; They had kept a steady pace as though their beds, Despite a dwindling and late-risen moon, Were distant still. An old […]...
40. Good Friday in my Heart GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright! My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled, My words the words that priest and soldier said, My deed the spear to desecrate the dead. And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night. Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun. My thoughts are Mary, […]...