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.