My eyes roam skyward sailing east
and, though each moment seems a moon,
when senses, on such beauty, feast
the night will pass away too soon.
My soul is drawn, when sailing west,
to more than one can safe absorb.
I am, by heaven's grace, possessed,
enraptured by an ancient orb.
It follows that a moonlit sky
will call your beauty to my mind.
No matter where my roving eye,
no matter where you are, I find
a glow that distance can't eclipse,
I feel your love-- if not your lips.
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