With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky, <br />"How silently, and with how wan a face!" <br />Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high <br />Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race! <br />Unhappy Nuns, whose common breath's a sigh <br />Which they would stifle, move at such a pace! <br />The northern Wind, to call thee to the chase, <br />Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I <br />The power of Merlin, Goddess! this should be: <br />And all the stars, fast as the clouds were riven, <br />Should sally forth, to keep thee company, <br />Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue heaven. <br />But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be given, <br />Queen both for beauty and for majesty.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/with-how-sad-steps-o-moon-thou-climb-st-the-sky/
