The Cruel Moon

 

Author: Robert Graves, Fairies and Fusiliers, 1918.

 

The cruel Moon hangs out of reach

Up above the shadowy beech.

Her face is stupid, but her eye

Is small and sharp and very sly.

Nurse says that the Moon can drive you mad?

No, that’s a silly story, lad!

Though she be angry, though she would

Destroy all England if she could

Yet think, what damage can she do

Hanging there so far from you?

Don’t heed what frightened nurses say:

Moons hang much too far away.

 

More poems by Robert Graves

 

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