A Little Song

When you, my Dear, are away, away,
How wearily goes the creeping day.
A year drags after morning, and night
Starts another year of candle light.
O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon!
Grant me, I beg of you, this boon¹.
Whirl round the earth as never sun
Has his diurnal² journey run.
And, Moon, slip past the ladders of air
In a single flash, while your streaming hair
Catches the stars and pulls them down
To shine on some slumbering³ Chinese town.
O Kindly⁴ Sun!  Understanding Moon!
Bring evening to crowd the footsteps of noon.
But when that long awaited day
Hangs ripe in the heavens, your voyaging stay.
Be morning, O Sun! with the lark⁵ in song,
Be afternoon for ages long.
And, Moon, let you and your lesser⁶ lights
Watch over a century of nights.