How Short Our Happy Days Appear! How

Children Bring Their Own Love With Them When They Come.

The Moon Is Bleached As White As Wool, And Just Dropping Under; Every Star Is Gone But Three, And They Hang Far Asunder,-- There's A Sea-ghost All In Gray, A Tall Shape Of Wonder!

You Moon, Have You Done Something Wrong In Heaven / That God Has Hidden Your Face?

And Old Affront Will Stir The Heart Through Years Of Rankling Pain.

Reign, And Keep Life In This Our Deep Desireour Only Greatness Is That We Aspire.