Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sonnet 124

 from Huntsman, What Quarry? 

Enormous moon, that rise behind these hills
Heavy and yellow in a sky unstarred
And pale, your girth by purple fillets barred
Of drifting cloud, that as the cool sky fills
With planets and the brighter stars, distills
To thinnest vapor and floats valley-ward, —
You flood with radiance all this cluttered yard,
The sagging fence, the chipping window sills!
Grateful at heart as if for my delight
You rose, I watch you through a mist of tears,
Thinking how man, who gags upon despair,
Salting his hunger with the sweat of fright
Has fed on cold indifference all these years,
Praying God to make him worthy of such care.