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The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, October 1917

A Nocturne

A Nocturne

The old, old placid lady moon,
Wrinkles of years on her face,
Walks in her bower,
(Shades of the night,
Her face would show weird at noon!)
Scanning from that far height deep
Deep unto deep of space,
To-night she leans out towards the earth,
Touching the webs of fine lace
Hung in the trees
I see where she kissed
The low hillock's pallid dearth,
Under the downy mist
Melting before her face .
How shuddering—tender were her gleams
There by the ruddier glare
Lit in the streets,
Where wave upon wave
The current below her streams!
Waters of tragedy lave
page 30 Regions the moon sees there.
The old, old placid Lady moon,
Wrinkles of years on her face—
What has she seen,
(Now hid by a cloud!
I would it might pass her soon)
Scanning so silence proud
Deep unto deep of space?

M. E. H.