"I'm weary, my Love,"

Said the Moon to her Sun.

"Please for an hour,"

Begged He. "Just one."

"I wish I could,"

Replied She, with a sigh.

"I'll come then," vowed He,

And He rose in the sky.

"No, Love," said She,

With a shake of her head.

"The quicker you run,

I must hurry to bed."

"Better, it is then,

We love from afar?"

"So it must be,

My Darling, my Star.

The hour grows late.

The World it awakes."

"But I so need to hold you,

My heart, how it aches."

So the Sun hurried on,

With each step cried, "Stay!"

The Moon shed a tear,

Fading softly away.