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The Moon
by
Henry David Thoreau


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The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray
Mounts up the eastern sky,
Not doomed to these short nights for aye,
But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortune,
Which her rays do not bless,
My wayward path declineth soon,
But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here,
And paled is her light,
Yet alway in her proper sphere
She’s mistress of the night.

This poem is in the public domain.

 

 

 

 

 

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Henry David Thoreau (1817 - 1862) was an American writer who celebrated nature and independence; we know him best for his book, Walden, which chronicles two years of life he spent in a tiny cabin on the shores of Walden Lake, and for his essay, Civil Disobedience, works cited as powerful influences by no less than Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr.  Thoreau (which is pronounced "THUR-oh," by the way, not "thu-ROW") was a contemporary and friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Louisa May and Bronson Alcott, and Nathaniel Hawthorne; he lived his entire life in Massachusetts and was a graduate of Harvard. To learn more about him, visit www.thoreausociety.org.

 


Post New Comment:
ckelly:
Cork: The cabin in my backyard is 16X20 which I think is the same as Henry's.
Posted 07/20/2014 09:36 AM
Jo:
I love Walden's Pond and as I look at the photo it reminds me of how shocked I was to see how big it was...I like his last line especially, "Mistress of the Night." Thanks, Jayne.
Posted 07/19/2014 11:13 PM


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