Sunday, January 24, 2010

"To the Moon" by Percy Bysshe Shelley

To the Moon
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

And, like a dying lady lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east
A white and shapeless mass.

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?


  1. Depressing, yet absolutely beautiful at the same time.

  2. Sigh. Poor moon. Forever being accused of inconstancy. :(

  3. *deep sigh*
    I love that bit. And how the moon is compared to a dying lady led by the insane. So maybe the inconstancy is not quite the moon's fault. Actually, just read it over seems more like the dying lady is led by the insane, in her own head. Interesting.

  4. led by the the "insane and feeble wanderings of her fading brain." It's a tad confusing because of where the line breaks off. :)
    I once read a poem where the moon was called "convictive as a marriage ring." That's a pretty unusual simile!