Once , long agone, I saw the lunar bow
Set in a western vapour, dim and pale,
Cloud-piered, mist-built of moonbeams, rising frail,
Bridging the night that drifted black below,
While far above faint stars shed gleam and glow;
And fancy there, as through a filmy veil,
Beheld true saintly knights in silver mail
Armed, on the archway, pacing to and fro.
This was my love that spanned the east and west,
And these my thoughts, ambitions, hopes and prayers,
That turned devoted service to their Queen.
But ah! Moon Marion darkened to their quest;
The vault of heaven is full of midnight airs,
The dream dissolved, the skies have lost their sheen.