The Moon by Henry David Thoreau — Read

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‘Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide;

Mortality below her orb is placed. ' -- RALEIGH.

The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray / Mounts up the eastern sky, / Not doomed to these short nights for aye, / But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortùne, / Which her rays do not bless;

My wayward path declineth soon, / But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here / And palèd is her light, / Yet always in her proper sphere / She's mistress of the night.

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