Poems (Terry, 1861)/New moon
NEW MOON.
Once, when the new moon glittered So slender in the West,I looked across my shoulder, And a wild wish stirred my breast.
Over my white, right shoulder I looked at the silver horn,And wished a wish at even To come to pass in the morn.
Whenever the new moon glittered, So slender and so fine,I looked across my shoulder, And wished that wish of mine!
Now, when the West is rosy, And the snow-wreaths blush below,And I see the light white crescent Float downward, soft and slow;
I never look over my shoulder, As I used to look before;For my heart is older and colder, And now I wish no more!