THE fickle Moon has left the skies; <br /> But Night's blue veil with stars is sprinkled, <br />And every little twinkler tries <br /> To twinkle as he'd never twinkled. <br /> <br />O, now's the hour for Love to pour, <br /> And Beauty hear his vows supernal; <br />No Moon will glint of change to hint, <br /> And stars but hint of things eternal.<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lucky-hour/
