The Waning Moon

As pale and wan as vapours that at eve Steal ghostly-like across the darkling plain, Low in the twilight West the Moon doth wane. Night after night I marked her glories leave, The dark Earth of some brilliancy bereave, Till now, a haggard shade, the Moon is fain To fly the rule she may no more maintain, The argent pomp and state her pale beams weave. O queen, forsake thine empire of the Night, And swiftly seek the regions dim to-west, Whence may'st thou soon return, and robed anew In gleaming splendours of thy fuller light, As earthly quenns in jeweled robes are dressed, Hold court supreme within the starry blue.