Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As a pale phantom with a lamp
Ascends some ruin's haunted stair,
So glides the moon along the damp
Mysterious chambers of the air.
Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed,
As if this phantom, full of pain,
Were by the crumbling walls concealed,
And at the windows seen again.
Until at last, serene and proud
In all the splendor of her light,
She walks the terraces of cloud,
Supreme as Empress of the Night.
I look, but recognize no more
Objects familiar to my view;
The very pathway to my door
Is an enchanted avenue.
All things are changed. One mass of shade,
The elm-trees drop their curtains down;
By palace, park, and colonnade
I walk as in a foreign town.
The very ground beneath my feet
Is clothed with a diviner air;
While marble paves the silent street
And glimmers in the empty square.
Illusion! Underneath there lies
The common life of every day;
Only the spirit glorifies
With its own tints the sober gray.
In vain we look, in vain uplift
Our eyes to heaven, if we are blind;
We see but what we have the gift
Of seeing; what we bring we find.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Moonlight by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Frankenstein, Victor Cruickshank
- Potry, John deVries
- COPLA 84 INVOCATION: This Bad Guy World, T (no first name) Wignesan
- Left Behind, D.L. Aceves
- Mother Nature, Victor Cruickshank
- Mature Love, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Homophones, Victor Cruickshank
- Time, Victor Cruickshank
- More Of The Different, John deVries
- Speak about love, hasmukh amathalal