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Jonathan Swift - On The Moon
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I with borrow`d silver shine
What you see is none of mine.
First I show you but a quarter,
Like the bow that guards the Tartar:
Then the half, and then the whole,
Ever dancing round the pole.


What will raise your admiration,
I am not one of God`s creation,
But sprung, (and I this truth maintain,)
Like Pallas, from my father`s brain.
And after all, I chiefly owe
My beauty to the shades below.
Most wondrous forms you see me wear,
A man, a woman, lion, bear,
A fish, a fowl, a cloud, a field,
All figures Heaven or earth can yield;
Like Daphne sometimes in a tree;
Yet am not one of all you see.
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