This moonlight makes The lovely lovelier Than ever before lakes And meadows were. And yet they are not, Though this their hour is, more Lovely than things that were not Lovely before. Nothing on earth, And in the heavens no star, For pure brightness is worth More than that jar, For wasps meant, now A star -- long may it swing From the dead apple-bough, So glistening. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NURSE'S SONG, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE JABBERWOCKY by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE POET AND THE BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR GOBLIN MARKET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EUROPE; THE 72ND AND 73RD YEARS OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN |