Sonnet—To The Moon

In temperance and faith hast thou for years
Watched o’er me. Thou hast smiled whene’er I gained
Small, human gains and bitterly wept tears
Of light to save me when my own light waned.
And I of thee have thought regretfully
Scarce more than nothing save to ponder thy
Benev’lent light on nights I could foresee
No respite from the chill of nighttide’s sky.
Thus, weep thou not for me for I should weep
O’er thee for in thy sacred place above
No arms will e’er encircle thee nor keep
Thee warm nor hold thee in embrace of love
    While I below, whom thou hast loved much,
    Know well the sweetness of my lover’s touch.