Some evenings fair, there comes a star
To cite the beauteous moon afar,
And travel close to her bright car;
List’ning glad to the song she sings;
Watching her spread her silver wings;
Learning a chorus to her song;
Trimming his lamp as he speeds along.
Whether with oars he paddles the blue,
Or whether on lightning wings he flew,—
Whether he goes in a boat or car,
I cannot see, for he is so far.