From Ronsard

HIDE this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon, So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest Loving and unawakened on thy breast; So shall no foul enchanter importune Thy quiet course, for now the night is boon, And through the friendly night unseen I fare Who dread the face of foemen unaware, And watch of hostile spies in the bright noon.

Thou know’st, O Moon, the bitter power of Love. ’Tis told how shepherd Pan found ways to move With a small gift thy heart; and of your grace, Sweet stars, be kind to this not alien fire, Because on earth ye did not scorn desire, Bethink ye, now ye hold your heavenly place.