I saw the loath moon rise,
The sun go sweatily down;
There was famine of sleep in his eyes;
She was a floating frown.
They nodded heavily
Over an ancient roof,
With a pout o’ the shoulders, she,
He with a grind o’ the hoof.
And the moon said to the sun:
“Another day to irk us!”
The sun to the touzled moon,
“Imagine it a circus.”