(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)

To The Moon

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth, -
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

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Comments (2)

So long ago I have forgotten
A sextet of one stanza. Poem rooted in good rhyme. Well done! Sylva.