ADDRESS TO THE MOON
by: Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864)
How sweet the silver Moon's pale ray,
Falls trembling on the distant bay,
O'er which the breezes sigh no more,
Nor billows lash the sounding shore.
Say, do the eyes of those I love,
Behold thee as thou soar'st above,
Lonely, majestic and serene,
The calm and placid evening's Queen?
Say, if upon thy peaceful breast,
Departed spirits find their rest,
For who would wish a fairer home,
Than in that bright, refulgent dome?
ADDRESS TO THE EARTH
By Aleph-en-usk (Epoch of the Red Mist – Epoch of the Black Fear)
How strange and how unlike, the silver lands
The light that falls in coloured bands
Which only science-bred eyes discern
And nerves rethreaded can then turn
To lights that flash within the brain
As pheromones from Queen’s domaine
Pierce with the fungi’s luminous fire
The fragile drones with heaven’s desire.
If we were still a lesser kind
Without the great and central mind,
Would we not place in that ‘blue-green’
The unthought, mystic, and unseen?