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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354932" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To the Moon [Earlier Version]</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WITH silent step behold her steal<br>Over those envious clouds that hid<br>Till now her face, then stand—a seal<br>Of silver on heaven’s mighty lid!<br>So round me would I have her light<br>In one broad burst of beauty play,<br>And who whilst thus she rules the night<br>Would wish the day,<br>Nor feel his yearning spirit fraught<br>With sweetly solemn strains of visionary thought?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Love of my childhood! for but when<br>A child I loved thee of all things—<br>Yea, with what ecstacies I then<br>Did hail thee, what dear visionings!<br>And when between us up the sky<br>Obscuring glooms have wildly thronged,<br>With shortened breath and searching eye<br>How have I longed<br>For wings that I away might flee<br>To kiss thy hidden face and dwell awhile with thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sadden! Ah, why bringest thou<br>Yet later memories to my mind?<br>I would but gaze upon thee now,<br>As erst for wonder;—not to find<br>Dim phantoms of each faded dream<br>That fanned my heart with pinions dyed<br>In passion, by old HAWKESBURY’S stream,<br>Before me glide,<br>With shades of days all figured o’er<br>By feelings lost, and hopes that know their place no more!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor was it thus thy beauty shone<br>Upon me fewer summers past—<br>Thus hopeless, world-distrusting, lone,<br>And withering in Misfortune’s blast!<br>Many that loved me then were nigh,<br>Of whom now these I may not trust,<br>And those forget—are far—or lie<br>Cold in the dust!<br>And never may we meet again<br>Loving and loved as then ’neath thy nocturnal reign!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Cynthia! it would seem as though<br>A something from our spirits fell,<br>Like scents from flowers, Life’s eras through<br>And by which web invisible,<br>A gathered after-scene of all<br>Affection builded to our loss,<br>Is drawn thus in dim funeral<br>The heart across:<br>And which where stained the most with gloom<br>Uncertain Thought is prone to map with spells of doom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But sober Reason sagelier sings<br>These visioned mysteries are but<br>The semblances which former things<br>Imbued our being with, as put<br>In act by memory, when is seen<br>Again some marked associate sight;<br>And thence it happens, Orb serene,<br>Why thou to-night<br>Look’st on me from thy native sky<br>Like an old friend too fond to talk of things gone by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let me this night the Past forget!<br>For though its dying voices be<br>At times like tones from Eden, yet<br>It bosoms too much change for me,—<br>That when but now my thoughts were given<br>To all I had suffered—loved and lost!<br>Turning mine eyes again to heaven,<br>Tear-quenched almost,<br>I started with a strange despair,<br>To find thee—even thee smiling unaltered there!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hence vain regrets of secret pride!<br>My human heart, what irks thee so,<br>What in the scale of Nature tried<br>Should weigh thy happiness or wo?<br>Pale millions, so by Fortune cursed,<br>Have loved for sorrow in the light<br>Of this yet youthful Moon, since first<br>She claimed the night,<br>And thus mature even from her birth,<br>Chased with pale beam the glooms that swathed the infant Earth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And be it humbling too, to know<br>That when this pile of haughty clay<br>For ages shall have ceased to glow,<br>Shall be a heap of ashes grey—<br>Which as the invading ploughshare drills<br>The unremembered burial ground,<br>The winds may o’er a hundred hills<br>Scatter around—<br>That in the midnight heavens thou<br>Shalt hang thy unfaded lamp and smile serene as now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, more than this: could even those,<br>The Edenites, who sorrow’d here<br>Ere Noah’s tilted ark arose<br>Or Nimrod chased the bounding deer,<br>Wherever sepulchered, could they<br>Shake the cold bonds of death and doom<br>But for a moment now away,—<br>Into each tomb<br>Solemnly gazing, thee they’d find<br>Even as they dying left thee, watchful Moon, behind!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But shall my thoughts thus widely range<br>And I no profit therein know?<br>Seeing that wither, waste and change<br>Must all that lives thine Orb below;<br>Shall I not turn with this sole aim,<br>In act to shun, in heart control,<br>Whatever dims the heavenward flame,<br>The essential soul<br>I feel within, and which must be<br>A living thing when thou art quenched eternally?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Harpur">Charles Harpur</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354932" data-title="To the Moon [Earlier Version] de Charles Harpur" data-description="WITH silent step behold her steal
Over those envious clouds that hid
Till now her face, then stand—a seal
Of silver on heaven’s mighty lid!
So round me would I have her light
In one broad burst of beauty play,
And who whilst thus she rules the..."></div>
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