Poems (Kimball)/Love for Love
LOVE FOR LOVE.
OH the old moon will rise not yet; 'T is a weary, weary old moon And late, late up; but we will not fret, The new moon will shine for us soon.
And "where is the new moon," pet? "And where does the old moon go?" They never are parted, they never met, But each from the other they grow.
In her bosom the old moon yet The new moon shelters and warms, And the fair young moon—she will not forget But rise with the old in her arms!