Unguarded stands the shuttered sky:

The creeping Thief of Night

With tool and hook begins to ply

His careful picking: he would pry

And filch her coffered light.

The soundless tapping of his bar

Pricks out each sudden star.

The soundless tapping of his bar

Lets out the wealthy Moon:

The frozen Bright goes arching far

On buttresses of lucid spar

And lights the road to Cloun;

And all the pouring of her riches

Floats on the silent ditches.

The crescent road is ivory

Between the silver water:

But squat and black and creeping, see,

Blank as the shadow of a tree,

Old Robert and his daughter

Toil on: and fearful, each descries

Moon-gleams in other’s eyes.