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 boon.

Whirl round the earth as never sun

Has his diurnal 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 slumbering Chinese town.

O Kindly 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 lark in song,

Be afternoon for ages long.

And, Moon, let you and your lesser lights

Watch over a century of nights.

***

More poems by Amy Lowell