Classic Poem

The Man in the Moon looked down, looked down,
As he went sailing over town,
And spied a snug retreat and dark
Beneath a yew tree in a park.
Oh, dear!
Why did he smile so broad and queer?

There was a bench beneath the tree,
And on it sat not one nor three,
And yet he peered the branches through
To be quite certain there were two.
Well, well!
Such tales the Man in the Moon could tell!

He sent a silver shaft of light
Straight through the vague and lying night;
It flashed athwart two eyes upturned,
And two with love and youth that burned—
Alack!
And these were blue and those were black.

And then the Man in the Moon sailed past
Across the heavens wild and vast,
And though he smiled, he did not look
Again into that leafy nook.
Oh! oh!
He sees so much that's queer, you know!