Heavy clouds obscured the sky, and the Moon did not make his
appearance at all. I stood in my little room, more lonely than ever,
and looked up at the sky where he ought to have shown himself. My
thoughts flew far away, up to my great friend, who every evening
told me such pretty tales, and showed me pictures. Yes, he has had
an experience indeed. He glided over the waters of the Deluge, and
smiled on Noah's ark just as he lately glanced down upon me, and
brought comfort and promise of a new world that was to spring forth
from the old. When the Children of Israel sat weeping by the waters of
Babylon, he glanced mournfully upon the willows where hung the
silent harps. When Romeo climbed the balcony, and the promise of
true love fluttered like a cherub toward heaven, the round Moon
hung, half hidden among the dark cypresses, in the lucid air. He saw
the captive giant at St. Helena, looking from the lonely rock across
the wide ocean, while great thoughts swept through his soul. Ah!
what tales the Moon can tell. Human life is like a story to him.
To-night I shall not see thee again, old friend. Tonight I can draw no
picture of the memories of thy visit. And, as I looked dreamily
towards the clouds, the sky became bright. There was a glancing light,
and a beam from the Moon fell upon me. It vanished again, and dark
clouds flew past: but still it was a greeting, a friendly good-night
offered to me by the Moon.