The old moon is tarnished With smoke of the flood, The dead leaves are varnished With color like blood, A treacherous smiler With teeth white as milk, A savage beguiler In sheathings of silk, The sea creeps to pillage, She leaps on her prey; A child of the village Was murdered to-day. She came up to meet him In a smooth golden cloak, She choked him and beat him To death, for a joke. Her bright locks were tangled, She shouted for joy, With one hand she strangled A strong little boy. Now in silence she lingers Beside him all night, To wash her long fingers In silvery light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRIVATE OF THE BUFFS; OR, THE BRITISH SOLDIER IN CHINA by FRANCIS HASTINGS CHARLES DOYLE TO THE RIVER CHARLES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE MILKING-MAID by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE WANING MOON by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY FELISE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |