THE low, large moon lies in the liquid sky, And breathless stars are watching her from far ... So I should watch, if I were but a star, The lanquid-eyed, sweet Summer fleeting by. A white, frail-petaled rose is at her breast— Ere the closed leaves have folded back and shown The great gold gleaming heart, the rose has flown ... Summer is dead ... the moon dropped from the West. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY DREAM by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE HILLS WERE MADE FOR FREEDOM by WILLIAM GOLDSMITH BROWN PROGRESSIVE HEALTH by CARL DENNIS IN SICKNESS (1714) by JONATHAN SWIFT IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 9 by ALFRED TENNYSON HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE LAY OF ST. ALOYS; A LEGEND OF BLOIS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |