Tis morning, and the moon still rides blue sky;
There’s magic in that white, nocturnal moon,
Ye, moon, refuse to fade, refuse to die!
If myth and mystic tell no lie, I’ll soonGo moonstruck. . .stark insanity; I’ll hear
The breath of angels and the earth’s soft tune.
And if the slightly twisted eye I bearDisturbs you in some awkward way, it should;
For Daytime Moon has cast its spell. Beware. . .
The crazed romantic in my soul I wouldForever hide, the moon has understood