Out of the purple drifts, From the shadow sea of night, On tides of musk a moth uplifts Its weary wings of white. Is it a dream or ghost Of a dream that comes to me, Here in the twilight on the coast, Blue cinctured by the sea? Fashioned of foam and froth -- And the dream is ended soon, And lo, whence came the moon-white moth Comes now the moth-white moon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON (A NEGRO SERENADE) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ORANGUTAN REHAB by KAREN SWENSON CHANSON INNOCENTE: 1, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 4. THE MARKET-GIRL by THOMAS HARDY |