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Robert Laurence Binyon - Autumn Moonrise
Work rating: Low

Lamp that risest lone
 From thy secret place,
 Like a sleeper`s face,
 Charged with thoughts unknown,

 Strange thoughts, unexpressed
 In thy brightening beam,
 Strangeness more than dream
 Upon earth e`er guessed!

 Strange thou gleam`st as some
 Eastern marble old,
 Scrawled with runes that hold
 Histories, yet are dumb.

 But thy viewless hand
 Out of whelming night
 Waves the woods to light,
 Summons up the land!

 Sea, that merged in sky;
 To its far bound shines;
 And thy touch defines
 Our infinity.

 Now the murmuring coast
 Glistens; rocks are there;
 And what most was bare
 Thou enrichest most.

 Far through granite caves
 Diving glide thy beams,
 Till the dark roof gleams
 Laced with hovering waves,

 O`er the white walls glide,
 Through the lattice creep,
 Where the lovers sleep,
 Bridegroom by his bride.

 Soft their wakened eyes
 From a deep bliss gaze
 
 On those marvellous rays
 New from Paradise.

 In the self--same hour,
 Whitening Russian plains,
 On sad exile trains
 Thou hast also power.

 No more kindly gloom
 Veils from them despair:
 Near and clear and bare
 They behold their doom.

 Bowed, they see their own
 Shadows on the snow,
 And the way they go,
 Endlessly alone:

 Aching, chained, footsore,
 Through the waste they wind,
 All their joy behind,
 Nought but grief before.

 O thou sleeper`s face
 Whence hast thou this gift
 So much to uplift,
 And so much to abase?

 Lovers` happier dream,
 Exiles` heavier pain,
 Thou on each dost rain
 Beam on radiant beam!

 Changed in thy control,
 Though no leaf hath stirred,
 Though no breath was heard,
 Lie both world and soul.
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