THE low, large moon lies in the liquid sky, And breathless stars are watching her from far ... So I should watch, if I were but a star, The lanquid-eyed, sweet Summer fleeting by. A white, frail-petaled rose is at her breast— Ere the closed leaves have folded back and shown The great gold gleaming heart, the rose has flown ... Summer is dead ... the moon dropped from the West. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALPINE SPIRIT'S SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES FOR THE MASTER'S SAKE by MINNIE MASON BEEBE THE DAY AFTER THE WAR by JAMES MADISON BELL PROOF AND DISPROOF by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING BLACK OAKS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |