The moon's my constant mistress, And the lovely owl my marrow; The flaming drake And the night-crow make Me music to my sorrow. I know more than Apollo; For oft, when he lies sleeping, I behold the stars At mortal wars, And the rounded welkin weeping. The moon embraces her shepherd, And the Queen of Love her warrior; While the first does horn The stars of the morn, And the next the heavenly farrier. With a heart of furious fancies, Whereof I am commander; With a burning spear And a horse of air To the wilderness I wander. With a knight of ghosts and shadows, I summoned am to tourney: Ten leagues beyond The wide world's end -- Methinks it is no journey. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ABOVE AND WITHIN by DAVID IGNATOW ON DEATH, WITHOUT EXAGGERATION by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA THE LOVER MOURNS FOR THE LOSS OF LOVE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER SONGS IN ABSENCE: 7. THE SHIP by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH MADONNA OF THE EVENING FLOWERS by AMY LOWELL |