There Are None Save the Moon
She blushed and cast a moistened eye
Upon the lily of the sea
And then shy cupid’s arrow sighed
-pierced both moon and me.
For some have wondered why the moon
Is want to haunt at night alone?
Or why the candor of its tune
Seems sweet but sad when shone;
For there are orbs of every light
Some near some far, still kissing sea
And in their tenderness of flight
We mold our dreams indeed.
But there are none whom hang so near
Or, rarely in the sky
Some star will fall in hope of ere
Landing where passed she by.
Sun may dote and star may swoon
From cupid’s empty quiver
But there are none, save the moon
Kept so-since his bow delivered.
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