The red new moon walked with me for a mile
And leaves me in the pinewood for her bed,—
The pines that in the sunset glowed as red,—
And I had thought You met me here awhile,

Slipped from the shadows with a word and smile:
The moon was tinged the colour of your head.
But in the mists it was my heart that bled,
And you had travelled by another way.

But when I held you in my arms to kiss you,
White was your skin, and from transmuted tissue
A planetary brightness seemed to issue

Shining upon me, vivid as the ray
Of lonely Dian in a Greek idyll.
And then the jealous orb of human will,
An obscure mass which barren causes sway,

Through our clear skies came unseen; and insults
The star that shone with shadow, and occults
Brightness not mine—O farewell if you may.