Amy Lowell (Эми Лоуэлл)

The Crescent Moon

Slipping softly through the sky
Little horned, happy moon,
Can you hear me up so high?
Will you come down soon?
On my nursery window-sill
Will you stay your steady flight?
And then float away with me
Through the summer night?
Brushing over tops of trees,
Playing hide and seek with stars,
Peeping up through shiny clouds
At Jupiter or Mars.
I shall fill my lap with roses
Gathered in the milky way,
All to carry home to mother.
Oh! what will she say!
Little rocking, sailing moon,
Do you hear me shout -- Ahoy!
Just a little nearer, moon,
To please a little boy.

1. Lead Soldiers
2. Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
3. On Carpaccio’s Picture: The Dream of St. Ursula
4. The Cyclists
5. The Captured Goddess

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