Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

Aleister Crowley . The moon is up full-orbed : she glides Striking a snaky ray Across the black resounding tides , The sepulchre of day. The moon is up : upon the prow We stand and watch the moon . A star is lustred on your brow ; Your lips begin a tune, A long , low tune of love that swells Little by little , and lights The overarching miracles Of Love's desire , and Night's. It swells, it rolls to triumph -song Through luminous black skies : Thrills into silence sharp and strong , Assumes its peace , and dies . There is the night : it covers close The lilies folded fair Of all your beauty , and the rose Half hidden in your hair . There is the night : unseen I stand And look to seaward still : We would not look upon the land Again , had I my will .