A MOON O' MAY 



jOULD you know all the glory, 

 the glamour, of it ? Then watch 

 with me the rising, the going 

 down, thereof. It is a full 

 moon, big and round, dripping 

 silver in long bars over this vernal earth. 

 How dark the horizon lies the deep, in- 

 tense black of lush new leafage, soft and 

 dense so dense, indeed, it drinks up the 

 soft gray twilight. Sunset is two hours 

 past. All over the sky a tremulous lumi- 

 nance makes paler the radiant stars. The 

 glory of the sun, the glory of the moon, 

 reach up from west and east to flood the 

 sweet heavens with this dusk, tender shining. 

 The heavens that bend so near. If you 

 could but reach the tallest tree-top, surely 

 the hand might pluck these fine stars from 

 their courses bend them to human pur- 

 pose, to human will. Underneath them, 

 what balm breathes out smell of the earth, 

 and grass and flowers underlaid with the 



