An Early Moonset

Like galleon flying a picaroon, Along the edge the ship-shap'd moon Leadeth a star across the sea To the cloudy harbor under her lee.

With her splendid lading of golden light She seems to dread the pirate Night; With puffing sails and fretful oars She steereth and speedeth for purple shores.

She will anchor to-night beneath the fort Whose grim guns guard the cloudy port, Where sound and safe from picaroon Rides many an olden and golden moon.