Out of the purple drifts, From the shadow sea of night, On tides of musk a moth uplifts Its weary wings of white. Is it a dream or ghost Of a dream that comes to me, Here in the twilight on the coast, Blue cinctured by the sea? Fashioned of foam and froth -- And the dream is ended soon, And lo, whence came the moon-white moth Comes now the moth-white moon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 3. BY HER AUNT'S GRAVE by THOMAS HARDY THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) HIC JACET by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON THE LOST CHORD by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER A BIRTHDAY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LAUS DEO! by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |