The dancing moon upon the silver sea
Has lost her customed brilliance of light
Now seeming but a shadow in the night
Beside the sparkle of this new-found glee;
And yet, all earthbound though they e'er must be,
The dewdrops scintillate with new delight,
And spiders weaving know their webs so bright
That they outshine the sunlit frosted tree.

Not born on earth this all engulfing light
That makes the skies but shadows dim to me,
Yet raises all reflection to such height
That I must shade my eyes or blinded be:
The firmament has lost a light, thine own;
Which is the star now left a cold grey stone?