There Are None Save the Moon

She blushed and cast a moistened eye Upon the lily of the sea And then shy cupid’s arrow sighed -pierced both moon and me. For some have wondered why the moon Is want to haunt at night alone? Or why the candor of its tune Seems sweet but sad when shone; For there are orbs of every light Some near some far, still kissing sea And in their tenderness of flight We mold our dreams indeed. But there are none whom hang so near Or, rarely in the sky Some star will fall in hope of ere Landing where passed she by. Sun may dote and star may swoon From cupid’s empty quiver But there are none, save the moon Kept so-since his bow delivered.