My Lady is the moon upon my night;
As black is far less black around her eye,
If opal's sun gives life with better light;
Then grace to her bestows that magic dye.
I have seen moons, tho' quarter, half than full
And sooner do the clouds retake their shine,
But no celestial star has brightest pull
Around the darkest core, as lady mine.
Yet I well know such glow, deserves that glow;
Returned by barter lover from nearer star,
But he in need, as I do need her so
Do render her the only orb by far.

As begging eyes do give the moon it's fame
And worship holds there greater than the same.