At Night

On moony nights the dogs bark shrill Down the valley and up the hill.

There's one is angry to behold The moon so unafraid and cold, Who makes the earth as bright as day, But yet unhappy, dead, and gray.

Another in his strawy lair Says: "Who's a-howling over there? By heavens I will stop him soon From interfering with the moon."

So back he barks, with throat upthrown: "You leave our moon, our moon alone." And other distant dogs respond Beyond the fields, beyond, beyond.