A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | ||
A CHILD'S THOUGHT ABOUT THE MOON.
The child had seen the silver ring,
Fair Dian floats in, filled with light,
And tried to reach the radiant thing,
And loved its smile, so softly bright.
Fair Dian floats in, filled with light,
And tried to reach the radiant thing,
And loved its smile, so softly bright.
But now the wanderer, in her wane,
Grew faint within that graceful car;
And the child gazed on Heaven again,
And saw the crescent shine afar!
Grew faint within that graceful car;
And the child gazed on Heaven again,
And saw the crescent shine afar!
With plaintive voice, her thought was spoken,
“Oh dear! the pretty moon is broken!”
“Oh dear! the pretty moon is broken!”
A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | ||