A Poplar and the Moon

 There stood a Poplar, tall and straight; 
The fair, round Moon, uprisen late, 
Made the long shadow on the grass 
A ghostly bridge ’twixt heaven and me. 
But May, with slumbrous nights, must pass;
And blustering winds will strip the tree. 
And I’ve no magic to express 
The moment of that loveliness; 
So from these words you’ll never guess 
The stars and lilies I could see.

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