By George Sterling

Men say the Janic moon shows but one face,
    Watching our planet with mysterious eyes;
    She turns another gaze on outer skies—
Forever given to the cold of space
And rigor of the frozen dark's embrace.
    Remote, the saber of a comet lies;
    Farther, a pin-point sun in silence dies,
Stilled by the night in its abysmal place.

Other than that she cannot know at all.
    Eternal starlight, desolate and strange,
        Bears to her scrutiny its ghostly sea,
Within whose deeps the systems rise and fall,
    She portion of their toil, and serf to Change—
        One gaze on Time, one on Eternity.

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