The moon;
So gloom in its glowing,
It shines, as an effervescent sign
To all with ears to hear;
To those with souls to sing.

The sun;
So sullen in its shining,
It sings--in haunting silence--
A song, which drunken dreamers name,
"The music of the sphere."

And the music of the sphere
Beckons to those with ears that hear;
Yearns for those who know not fear.

The earth may mourn its seas away;
Ponder, no more, a passing day,
And those who cause the young to fall,
--Cursed are you,-- may death befall
Your ceaseless days--repent, now, your wicked ways!--

No longer does the Orion float;
For far too great is the great sphere's sin!
Wing me to a different place,--wipe from your face that placid grin!--
And on you, may your dream be done!
Blot the blood from your chin;
For it floods from where begins all sin --Where the morals of men be misplaced!--

You who dwell beneath the sky;
Beneath the stars (where seraphs lie),
That terrible and beautiful, --silent sphere,--
Splendor and beauty vie!
Beneath the skies so blue,
Where--alas!--a fortune, one does pursue,

Beneath the sun, --above the moon,--
Under the skies (which bring but gloom),
Rests the song of the soulless seraphs,
--The piece of the angels blear,--
Who, to lonely souls they felt so near,
Yet to the end, the thoughts --so queer,--
In no way turned a peevish ear,
To the pettish tears that
Fell from the seraph's seat,
Unto the world which mourned so bleak,
Like a masqueraded lie,
Told to a child, to hoard his cry.

Unto you, --I beg!--
Rise, from the yellow night,
The evaded eve, for near, our plight;
So rise, from this cursed night!
Bane your heart, --where death began--
Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!

Throughout the sun's great span,
Let all hear!
From where Adam ate the crop,
Let glory from your hands drop
The lies they hold;
Toss them o'er the plain,
Within heavy, heaving rain!

Wipe the crown from your brow,
For glory vows it's depart now,
Earth's gale to you avow,
Sin, --solemn sin!--
In its abound.