Moderation I Poem by Morgan Michaels

Of all the many treasures
that fill my treasure chest
One of all I cherish
More dearly than the rest

Her name is Moderation
Moderation in all things
And men and Nature prosper
where she unfurls her wings.

She is fair as a flower
the dewy dropp begems
or like a morning pure and clear
the starry night indemns.

or even like the Morning Star
that pranks the new-borne sky
and flicks its beams more brightly-far
as nearby diamonds die.

The evening she presides on
is broken by the day
as breaks the wave on Baie sand
that's born on Baie's bay.

Her morning hours tick slowly
and dawdle pleasantly
as loathe to leave unladen
with fruits of husbandry.

Always clear her windows
Cream is sweet in the bowl
A maelstrom could not rattle
her servant's inward idyl.

Two smocks only has she-
one fine for Sunday wear
yet put her by the lily
and say which is the fairer.

She will shrink from nothing
no sport or raillery
or nearly none, repels her
but only its degree.