The Eleventh Moon

'Twas in the eleventh moon I went wool gathering in the dim, Near by me was a lover lad and the sweetness was on him.

Lightly his eyes went to the east and he with joy was dumb, His sweet love walked a miracle out of the moonlight come.

Oh, but he was the fine lover! with a lover's thirsting eye: —When two hearts beat the tune is sweet and knows not how to die.

Her laugh it was the rainbow's laugh delicious to the land, And she gave to him for close loving her little silken hand.

Her face was made of Summer thought joined with the giddy Spring: Gently I said, O heart, she is too heavenly a thing.

The moon did seem as music spilled upon her spotless gown, And at her height of happiness the summer tear came down.

Night—and the silence honey-wet: the moon came to the full: It was a time for gentle thought and the gathering of wool.