New Moon I (How many a time have we not seen with joy)

How many a time have we not seen with joy The new moon in the West, the longed-for sign Glory shall fail not with recurring time. Each month in flawless wonder reappears That miracle of light and fantasy— The faithful lamp the Twilight Sibyl bears, Protectress of the fond in heart, who dwells Upon the borders of the sacred night. In April when the woodlands ring with song Or in December's leafless solitude, She comes to take away the fret of life And with sheer ecstasy set all things free; While the adoring soul in stillness waits, Love like the frailest windflower revives.