THE MOON IS UP

An anonymous poem

      HE moon is up, the moon is up!
      The larks begin to fly,
      And, like a drowsy buttercup,
      Dark Phoebus skims the sky,
      The elephant, with cheerful voice,
      Sings blithely on the spray;
      The bats and beetles all rejoice,
      Then let me, too, be gay.
       
      I would I were a porcupine,
      And wore a peacock's tail;
      To-morrow, if the moon but shine,
      Perchance I'll be a whale.
      Then let me be, like the cauliflower,
      Be merry while I may,
      And, ere there comes a sunny hour
      To cloud my heart, be gay!

"The Moon Is Up" is reprinted from A Nonsense Anthology. Ed. Carolyn Wells. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1915.

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