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[ Also see Astronomy Clouds Earth Sky Stars Sun Tides ]

No rest--no dark.
  Hour after hour that passionless bright face
    Climbs up the desolate blue.
      - Dinah Maria Mulock (used pseudonym Mrs. Craik),

Hail, pallid crescent, hail!
  Let me look on thee where thou sitt'st for aye
    Like memory--ghastly in the glare of day,
      But in the evening, light.
      - Dinah Maria Mulock (used pseudonym Mrs. Craik),
        The Moon in the Morning

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
      - Alfred Noyes

The queen of night shines fair with all her virgin stars about her.
      - Thomas Otway

Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone,
  Wi' the auld moon in hir arme.
      - Thomas Percy, Reliques--Sir Patrick Spens

Still and pale
  Thou movest in thy silver veil,
    Queen of the night! the filmy shroud
      Of many a mild, transparent cloud
        Hides, yet adorns thee.
      - Winthrop Mackworth Praed

Day glimmer'd in the east, and the white Moon
  Hung like a vapor in the cloudless sky.
      - Samuel Rogers, Italy--The Lake of Geneva

Again thou reignest in thy golden hall,
  Rejoicing in thy sway, fair queen of night!
    The ruddy reapers hail thee with delight:
      Theirs is the harvest, theirs the joyous call
        For tasks well ended ere the season's fall.
      - William Roscoe,
        Sonnet--To the Harvest Moon

The sun was gone now; the curled moon was like a little feather
  Fluttering far down the gulf.
      - Christina Georgina Rossetti,
        The Blessed Damozel (st. 10)

The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to.
      - Carl Sandburg

That I could clamber to the frozen moon
  And draw the ladder after me.
      - quoted by Arthur Schopenhauer,
        Parerga and Paralipomena

Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee;
  I prithee, dear moon, now show to me
    The form and the features, the speech and degree,
      Of the man that true lover of mine shall be.
      - Sir Walter Scott, The Heart of Midlothian
         (ch. XVII)

If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,
  Go visit it by the pale moonlight;
    For the gay beams of lightsome day
      Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray.
      - Sir Walter Scott,
        The Lay of the Last Minstrel
         (canto II, st. 1)

The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
      - William Shakespeare

The moon, the governess of floods, pale in her anger, washes all the air that rheumatic diseases do abound; and, through this distemperature, we see the seasons alter.
      - William Shakespeare

Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
  Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in
    Another moon; but O, methinks, how slow
      This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires,
        Like to a stepdame or a dowager,
          Long withering our a young man's revenue.
      - William Shakespeare,
        A Midsummer Night's Dream
         (Theseus at I, i)

Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
  Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
    That rheumatic diseases do abound.
      And thorough this distemperature we see
        The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
          Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
            And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
              An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
                Is, as in mockery, set.
      - William Shakespeare,
        A Midsummer Night's Dream
         (Titania at II, i)

The noble sister of Publicola,
  The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
    That's curded by the frost from purest snow
      And hangs on Dian's temple--dear Valeria!
      - William Shakespeare, Coriolanus
         (Coriolanus at V, iii)

It is the very error of the moon.
  She comes more nearer earth than she was wont
    And makes men mad.
      - William Shakespeare,
        Othello the Moor of Venice
         (Othello at V, ii)

Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been
  The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
    Without a burthen.
      - William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale
         (Polixenes at I, ii)

Like the young moon,
  When on the sunlit limits of the night
    Her white shell trembles amid crimson air,
      And whilst the sleeping tempest gathers might,
        Doth, as the herald of its coming, bear
          The ghost of its dead mother, whose dim form
            Bends in dark ether from her infant's chair.
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley

The cold chaste Moon, the Queen of Heaven's bright isles,
  Who makes all beautiful on which she smiles!
    That wandering shrine of soft, yet icy flame,
      Which ever is transform'd yet still the same,
        And warms, but not illumines.
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley

The young moon has fed
  Her exhausted horn
    With the sunset's fire.
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley,
        Hellas--Semi-Chorus II

That orbed maiden, with white fire laden,
  Whom mortals call the moon.
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Cloud (IV)

Art thou pale for weariness
  Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth,
    Wandering companionless
      Among the stars that have a different birth,--
        And ever changing, like a joyous eye
          That finds no object worth its constancy?
      - Percy Bysshe Shelley, To the Moon

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