A Little Song

          When you, my Dear, are away, away,
          How wearily goes the creeping day.
          A year drags after morning, and night
          Starts another year of candle light.
          O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon!
          Grant me, I beg of you, this boon.

          Whirl round the earth as never sun
          Has his diurnal journey run.
          And, Moon, slip past the ladders of air
          In a single flash, while your streaming hair
          Catches the stars and pulls them down
          To shine on some slumbering Chinese town.
          O Kindly Sun!  Understanding Moon!
          Bring evening to crowd the footsteps of noon.

          But when that long awaited day
          Hangs ripe in the heavens, your voyaging stay.
          Be morning, O Sun! with the lark in song,
          Be afternoon for ages long.
          And, Moon, let you and your lesser lights
          Watch over a century of nights.

This poem is in the public domain.