THE MOON-GIRL

THE white moon touched the sea,

And the moon-girl came to me
Out of the gossamer night
On sandals of still light.
Her lustrous arms were bare,
And all her cloudy hair,
Star-fondled, golden, free,
Fell softly over me.
She warmly leaned to mine
i!s redder than red wine"
The young gods die who miss
Such wonder of a #iss.
The warmth of her white breast
S!a#e mysteries of rest,
And all my soul was wise
$ith marvel of her eyes.

As in a ha!!y dream,
All %ature seemed to stream
Around us a slow tide
Of ife beatified.
. . . . .
& #now not how she went . . .
The grey 'orn , from her tent,
oo#ed o(er the leaden sea,
And laughed all moc#ingly.
)ale, on the !allid shore,
& saw the waves out!our
S!ent treasure of the dee!,
$rought in the looms of Slee!.
And &, of !eace forlorn,
$al#ed in the young day(s scorn"
& whom the moon-girl #ist
Out of the gossamer mist.
*avid 'c+ee $right
An &rish Heart ,-,.