#WingedWordsWindsday: 2022/07/13 -- Supermoon Poems!

 

WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 1, No. 37: July 13, 2022

 

Celebrating the Full Supermoon on Wednesday, July 13 @ 1:37 PM (CDT)

 

Orphic Hymn #8: “To the Moon”

Translated by Thomas Taylor (1758-1835) with Slight Revisions by the Editor

 

“But [Jupiter] fabricated another boundless Earth, which the immortals call Selenë [Moon], but [Earthlings call it] Menë [Month]. which has many mountains, many cities, many houses." – Fragment from the Orphic Rhapsodies

 

Hear, divine queen, diffusing silver light,

Bull-horned and wandering through the gloom of Night.

With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide

Night’s torch extending, through the heavens you ride:

Female and Male with borrowed rays you shine,

And now full-orbed, now tending to decline.

Mother of ages, fruit-producing Moon,

Whose amber orb makes Night’s reflected noon:

Lover of horses, splendid, queen of Night,

All-seeing power bedecked with starry light.

Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife,

In peace rejoicing, and a prudent life:

Fair lamp of Night, its ornament and friend,

Who gives to Nature’s works their destined end.

Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail!

Decked with a graceful robe and shining veil;

Come, blessed, divine, prudent, starry, bright,

Come lunar-lamp with chaste and splendid light,

Shine on these sacred rites with prosperous rays,

And pleased accept your suppliant’s mystic praise.

 

“The Moon”

By Sappho (ca. 630-570 BCE)

Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold (1832-1904)

 

The stars about the lovely Moon

Fade back and vanish very soon,

When, round and full, her silver face

Swims into sight and lights all space.

 

The South Polar region of the Moon, where the Artemis 3 astronauts are scheduled to land in 2025. (Photo Credit: NASA – Public Domain)

 

“Moonlight”

(The Merchant of Venice, Act V, Scene 1)

By William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

 

    How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

    Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music

    Creep in your ears: soft stillness, and the night,

    Become the touches of sweet harmony.

    Sit, Jessica: look, how the floor of heaven

    Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:

    There’s not the smallest orb which thou beholds,

    But in his motion like an angel sings,

    Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.

 

“Moonlight”

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

 

As a pale phantom with a lamp

Ascends some ruin’s haunted stair,

So glides the Moon along the damp

Mysterious chambers of the air.

 

Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed,

As if this phantom, full of pain,

Were by the crumbling walls concealed,

And at the windows seen again.

 

Until at last, serene and proud

In all the splendor of her light,

She walks the terraces of cloud,

Supreme as Empress of the Night.

 

I look, but recognize no more

Objects familiar to my view;

The very pathway to my door

Is an enchanted avenue.

 

All things are changed. One mass of shade,

The elm-trees drop their curtains down;

By palace, park, and colonnade

I walk as in a foreign town.

 

The very ground beneath my feet

Is clothed with a diviner air;

While marble paves the silent street

And glimmers in the empty square.

 

Illusion! Underneath there lies

The common life of every day;

Only the spirit glorifies

With its own tints the sober gray.

 

In vain we look, in vain uplift

Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind;

We see but what we have the gift

Of seeing; what we bring we find.

 

“Eldorado”

By Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

 

Gaily bedight, a gallant knight,

In sunshine and in shadow,

Had journeyed long, singing a song,

In search of Eldorado.

 

But he grew old — this knight so bold —

And o’er his heart a shadow —

Fell as he found no spot of ground

That looked like Eldorado.

 

And, as his strength failed him at length,

He met a pilgrim shadow —

“Shadow,” said he, “Where can it be —

This land of Eldorado?”

 

 “Over the Mountains of the Moon,

Down the Valley of the Shadow,

Ride, boldly ride,” the shade replied, —

“If you seek for Eldorado!”

 

The Lunar Gateway outpost will orbit the Moon and serve as a waystation for astronauts traveling back and forth between the Earth and the Moon. (Image Credit: Public Domain – NASA)

 

“The Moon”

By Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

 

The Moon was but a chin of gold

A night or two ago,

And now she turns her perfect face

Upon the world below.

 

Her forehead is of amplest blond;

Her cheek like beryl stone;

Her eye unto the summer dew

The likest I have known.

 

Her lips of amber never part;

But what must be the smile

Upon her friend she could bestow

Were such her silver will!

 

And what a privilege to be

But the remotest star!

For certainly her way might pass

Beside your twinkling door.

 

Her bonnet is the firmament,

The Universe her shoe,

The stars the trinkets at her belt,

Her dimities of blue.

 

“The Moon”

By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

 

The Moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

On streets and fields and harbor quays,

And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

 

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,

The howling dog by the door of the house,

The bat that lies in bed at noon,

All love to be out by the light of the Moon.

 

But all of the things that belong to the day

Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

And flowers and children close their eyes

Till up in the morning the Sun shall arise.

 

 

This is the official logo of NASA’s Artemis Program, which is designed to establish a permanent, sustainable human presence on the Moon for scientific research and peaceful exploration, in cooperation with international partners. (Image Credit: Public Domain – NASA)

 

“Moonrise”

By Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

 

At the end of the road through the wood

I see the great Moon rise.

The fields are flooded with shine,

And my soul with surmise.

 

What if that mystic orb

With her shadowy beams,

Should be the revealer at last

Of my darkest dreams!

 

What if this tender fire

In my heart’s deep hold

Should be wiser than all the lore

Of the sages of old!

 

“The Queen of Night”

By Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

 

Mortal, mortal, have you seen

In the scented summer night,

Great Astartë, clad in green

With a veil of mystic light,

Passing on her silent way,

Pale and lovelier than day?

 

Mortal, mortal, have you heard,

On an odorous summer eve,

Rumors of an unknown word

Bidding sorrow not to grieve, —

Echoes of a silver voice

Bidding every heart rejoice?

 

Mortal, when the slim New Moon

Hangs above the western hill,

When the year comes round to June

And the leafy world is still,

Then, enraptured, you shall hear

Secrets for a poet’s ear.

 

Mortal, mortal, come with me,

When the Moon is rising large,

Through the wood or from the sea,

Or by some lone river marge.

There, entranced, you shall behold

Beauty’s self, that grows not old.

 

“Kind Moon”

By Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

 

I think the Moon is very kind

To take such trouble just for me.

He came along with me from home

To keep me company.

 

He went as fast as I could run;

I wonder how he crossed the sky?

I’m sure he hasn’t legs and feet

Or any wings to fly.

 

Yet here he is above their roof;

Perhaps he thinks it isn’t right

For me to go so far alone,

Though Mother said I might.