Some evenings fair, there comes a star

To cite the beauteous moon afar,

And travel close to her bright car;

List’ning glad to the song she sings;

Watching her spread her silver wings;

Learning a chorus to her song;

Trimming his lamp as he speeds along.

Whether with oars he paddles the blue,

Or whether on lightning wings he flew,—

Whether he goes in a boat or car,

I cannot see, for he is so far.