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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MOON OF GRACE, by                    
First Line: Neath the hood and cape
Last Line: Harbour musk divine.


Neath the hood and cape
That his beauty drape
Shines my moon of grace:
'Ye who love forsake'
Cry his charms, 'O take
Me to your embrace!'

If his garments seem
Coarse, and if ye deem
He is meanly clad,
Yet recall the rose:
Stemmed on thorns, it glows
Beautiful and glad.

Recollect the pitch
Black and brutal, which
Crowns the precious wine,
And remember how
Boxes cheap enow
Harbour musk divine.





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