To the Moon (StC)
By George Sterling
Loose me thy pearl, O empress of the night!
And with thy scattered silver purchase me
The freedoms of celestial sorcery;
For I would worship, far from mortal sight,
My marvellous, my lady of delight,
So gleam, and by thy lustre I shall see
Hope's eager smile, and Rapture's breast made free,
And Love more fey and exquisite and white.
Nay! loose thy spell, thy radiant charm annul!
Alas! thou seemest near and she remote!
There drifts unhappy magic on thy beams—
Madness and pain, for now, invisible.
Soft-handed Passion grips my straining throat
And shows her beautiful beyond my dreams.
Oakland.