The moon is but a candle-glow
That flickers thro’ the gloom:
The starry space, a castle hall:
And Earth, the children’s room,
Where all night long the old trees stand
To watch the streams asleep:
Grandmothers guarding trundle-beds:
Good shepherds guarding sheep.
More verses by Vachel Lindsay
- Our Guardian Angels And Their Children
- Honor Among Scamps
- On Receiving One Of Gloriana’s Letters
- What The Hyena Said
- Who Knows?