THE wind drove the moon
To a cloud-built cave,
And shut her in
As it were her grave;
The cave threw wide
A silver portal--
And forth she came,
Serene, immortal!
He piled great clouds
With angry might,
Till lost in gloom
Was all her light;
The clouds a moment
Held her under,
Then, glorified,
They burst asunder!
The wind that night
Bemoaned and whistled
Till all the forest
Groaned and bristled,--
[Illustration]
While moonbeams stole
To tear-wet pillows,
And chased the gloom
From graveyard willows.
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