To the Moon
Sister of the morning’s light,
image of tenderness in sorrow,
this silver mist of radiance
let your brilliance borrow.
Your silent foot-fall through the night,
brings out from caves of pagan rights
sweet birds that gladly turn from light
and me, souls fated as forsaken.
The future sees your piercing gaze,
and piercing sees a great many things.
So sweet Luna help me, lift me to
your side! Give the raptured this one mercy:
Through the eye of the world’s peace, thread
this noble knight, unstitch the quilt of fog
and drag me to a brighter light, to you.
And you the blessing of sweet vision
bestow on me to ease the pain of distance.
So swift you raise me up above the robing mist!
Oh how her naked love appears behind
the garden’s limbs! Yes, soon she’ll pull me to her,
as once, long ago, sweet Endymion did you.
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