Poem by Eleanor Farjeon

* * *

The moon upon her watch-tower
With her golden eye
Guarded the quarters
East and West the sky.
Just as midnight
Was stepping past
One drew his first breath,
One drew his last.
The moon upon her watch-tower
Rang a soundless bell--
It might have been for welcome,
It might have been farewell.

1. In the Oculist's Anteroom
2. Wild Hyacinth
3. Sonnets. 9. Love Needs not Two the Render It Complete
4. Sonnets. 14. Now I have love again and life again
5. The Reflection

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