When the moon chooses To take her face behind Her silver gray garment, And goes less bold Before the eyes of earth, She turns her face and hides, And from hight to low She shakes the tides. There is nothing she might say Could quell our seas When she feels like touching, But cannot be touched, When she feels like looking, But not like being watched. For millions will feel her force, And all must surely know, Only one can make them ebb, For only one can make her fade. When he goes beyond her reach She turns her head and sighs, Caring less for all earth's eyes.