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As the moon's fair image quaketh
In the raging waves of ocean,
Whilst she, in the vault of heaven,
Moves with silent peaceful motion.
- Heinrich Heine, Book of Songs--New Spring
(prologue, no. 23)
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
- Homer ("Smyrns of Chios"), The Odyssey
(bk. II, l. 42), (Pope's translation)
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now bright and sunny--
But of all the lunar things that change,
The one that shows most fickle and strange,
And takes the most eccentric range,
Is the moon--so called--of honey!
- Thomas Hood,
Miss Milmansegg--Her Honeymoon
Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that huntress of the silver bow
Fabled of old? Or rather dost thou tread
Those cloudy summits thence to gaze below,
Like the wild chamois from her Alpine snow,
Where hunters never climbed--secure from dread?
- Thomas Hood, Ode to the Moon
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her,
Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.
- Victor Hugo, Boaz Asleep
Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,
Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup,
And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.
- Jean Ingelow,
Songs of the Night Watches--The First Watch
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.
- Sir William Jones
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver car,
State in wonted manner keep.
Hesperus entreats thy light
Goddess, excellently bright!
- Ben Jonson, Hymn--To Cynthia
O! moon old boughs lisp forth a holier din,
The while they feel thine airy fellowship:
Thou dost bless everywhere with silver lip,
Kissing dead things to life.
- John Keats (1)
The moon put forth a little diamond peak
No bigger than an unobserved star,
Or tiny point of fairy cimetar.
- John Keats (1), Endymion (bk. IV, l. 499)
We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.
- John Fitzgerald Kennedy,
in his Rice University Moon Speech, September 12, 1962
Beholding the moon rise
Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows:
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossom'd the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The rising moon has hid the stars,
Her level rays, like golden bars
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between,
And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams,
Had dropt her silver bow
Upon the meadows low.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
See yonder fire! It is the moon
Slow rising o'er the eastern hill.
It glimmers on the forest tips,
And thought the dewy foliage drips
In little rivulets of light,
And makes the heart in love with night.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
Christus--The Golden Legend
(pt. VI, l. 462)
It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes
And roofs of villages, on woodland crests
And their aerial neighborhoods of nests
Deserted, on the curtained window-panes
Of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes
And harvest-like fields, its mystic splendor rests.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Harvest Moon
My own lov'd light,
That very soft and solemn spirit worships,
That lovers love so well--strange joy is thine,
Whose influence o'er all tides of soul hath power,
Who lend'st thy light to rapture and despair;
The glow of hope and wan hue of sick fancy
Alike reflect thy rays: alike thou lightest
The path of meeting or of parting love--
Alike on mingling or on breaking hearts
Thou smil'st in throned beauty!
- Charles Robert Maturin
The dews of summer night did fall;
The moon (sweet regent of the sky)
Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall,
And many an oak that grew thereby.
- William Julius Mickle, Cumnor Hall,
authorship of "Cumnor Hall" sometimes claimed for Jean Adam
Let the air strike our tune,
Whilst we show reverence to yond peeping moon.
- Thomas Middleton, The Witch (act V, sc. 2)
The maiden moon in her mantle of blue.
- Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller)
The silver-footed queen.
- John Milton
Unmuffle, ye faint stars; and thou fair moon,
That wont'st to love the traveller's benison,
Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud,
And disinherit Chaos.
- John Milton, Comus (l. 331)
. . . now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host rode brightest, till the Moon,
Rising in the clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
- John Milton, Paradise Lost
(bk. IV, l. 604)
And be their rest unmov'd
By the white moonlight's dazzling power:
None, but the loving and belov'd,
Should be awake at this sweet hour.
- Thomas Moore
The moon looks
On many brooks,
The brook can see no moon but this.
- Thomas Moore,
Irish Melodies--While Gazing on the Moon's Light
He should, as he list, be able to prove the moon made of grene cheese.
- Sir Thomas More, English Works (p. 256)
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