To The Moon Poem by Pierre de Ronsard

Hide this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon;

So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest

Loving and unawakened on thy breast;

So shall no foul enchanter importune

Thy quiet course; for now the night is boon,

And through the friendly night unseen I fare,

Who dread the face of foemen unaware,

And watch of hostile spies in the bright noon.

Thou knowest, Moon, the bitter power of Love;

’Tis told how shepherd Pan found ways to move,

For little price, thy heart; and of your grace,

Sweet stars, be kind to this not alien fire,

Because on earth ye did not scorn desire,

Bethink ye, now ye hold your heavenly place.