Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE VOICE FROM THE GRAY MOON, by DONALD CHESTER EWING



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE VOICE FROM THE GRAY MOON, by                    
First Line: The gray moon stretches wide her arms
Last Line: And given the sword whereby they fall!
Subject(s): Moon; Night; Voices; Bedtime


The gray Moon stretches wide her arms
And clutches the wild-fleeing night
Where on the tempest's shrill alarms
A formless word has taken flight --

A word that echoes from the graves
Asleep upon the sombre hill;
A word that shouts above the waves
And breaks the dismal moorland's still;

A word that in the gray Moon's light
Mounts to the lonely belfry tower
And there proclaims to all the night
The horror of the fearsome hour!

From out the gray Moon's arms stretched wide,
Up from the ancient shade there comes
A shadow -- of one yet to ride
Again from out the crumbled domes

Of empires vanished and forgot --
To ride again beneath the new
Domes risen o'er the ancient spot --
To slay again, as once he slew

With brutal sword the luckless throng
Who hailed him as their conqueror --
Who gave him power to be strong,
And bowed them down before his power!

The gray Moon stretches wide her arms
And in the wild-blown world below,
How many hear her dread alarms,
And hear the brewing tempests blow --

Yet know not from the gray Moon's shade
The rider does not ride at all,
But in their hearts he has been made --
And given the sword whereby they fall!





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