Good evening, my lord

Peppler attends the garden

 

Have him chuck the wampees

And assist me with my telescope

 

Coleridge said a star was near the horns

Tonight I see one inside the disc.

 

The influence of the Moon on the aether

Captures the light of near stars and gathers

 

It into its arms, to be seen by men

Of sufficient means, of sufficient wit

 

Build your fire where it will not be seen by me

That it not dim my vision of things and myself.