Occupy Poetry

The Cruel Moon

BY Robert Graves

The cruel Moon hangs out of reach
Up above the shadowy beech.
Her face is stupid, but her eye
Is small and sharp and very sly.
Nurse says the Moon can drive you mad?
No, that’s a silly story, lad!
Though she be angry, though she would
Destroy all England if she could,
Yet think, what damage can she do
Hanging there so far from you?
Don’t heed what frightened nurses say:
Moons hang much too far away.

Tag:Tag:

Newsletter

Help us build the most popular collection of engaged poetry online. ubscribe to Occupy Poetry & Stay tuned!

Back to Top