The Moon that Shone in Paradise

O NEW old moon! O old moon new!Which title may I give to you?You were not here a month ago,Yet here ashine to-night; and soConflicting statements both are true.

To-night the floods of still white rainCome to me through the window-pane,Sodden with old-time memoryOf Earth's primeval history,When shadows were Earth's only stain.

Is this round moon, I see ariseUp its old roadway in the skies,Over my small horizon's rim,Made by the pine wood's shadow dim,The moon that lighted Paradise?

That shone with new created beam,O'er Eden's bright quadruple stream,Over the onyx pebbles going,Or through Havilah's gold sand flowing,Under Euphrates' palms to gleam?

The moon that shone on Eve's bright hair,And cloaked with light her beauty fair,That mirrored Eve and ParadiseOnly in kingly Adam's eyes,Beneath a brow unlined by care?

Thy white shafts barred the dens of shadeWhere harmless lions crouching laid,And thornless roses lifted up,To thee and God, each incense cupThrough silver altars, shadow frayed.

O new old moon! O new moon old!Hast thou no tale to mortal toldThrough all these years? Nay, tell me nowHow Eden vanished, where and howIts sinless love and sands of gold.

Tell me what lies beyond the blue,And what the whirling star-worlds do?

Is there no jasper wall in sight,Whose turrets catch thy silver light,With gates where weary souls go through?

Unanswering still, the page of whiteCircles about my hearth to-night,Touching the old familiar thingsSoftly as angels' tender wings.Good-night, new moon! old moon, good-night!