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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Raphael’s Song

By William Vaughn Moody (1869–1910)

From Scene I, Act I, of ‘The Masque of Judgment’

THE LATE moon would not stay,

The stars grow far and few;

Into her house of day

Hung with Sidonian blue

Stealeth the earth, as a mænad girl

Steals to her home when the orgies are o’er

That startled the glens and the sleeping shore,

And up from the passionate deeps of night

Into the shallows and straits of light

Softly the forests whirl.

Laugh, earth! For thy feigning-face is wise;

There is naught so clear as thy morning eyes;

And the sun thy lord is an easy lord!

What should they be to him,—

Thine hours of dance in the woodland dim,

The brandished torch and the shouted word,

The flight, the struggle, the honeyed-swoon

’Neath the wild, wild lips of the moon?