The Wind And The Moon

Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out!             You stare             In the air             As if crying Beware,     Always looking what I am about:     I hate to be watched; I will blow you out!"     The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon.             So, deep             On a heap             Of clouds, to sleep     Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon,     Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon!"     He turned in his bed: she was there again!             On high             In the sky             With her one ghost-eye     The Moon shone white and alive and plain:     Said the Wind, "I will blow you out again!"     The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew slim.             "With my sledge             And my wedge             I have knocked off her edge!     I will blow," said the Wind, "right fierce and grim,     And the creature will soon be slimmer than slim!"     He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread.             "One puff             More's enough             To blow her to snuff!     One good puff more where the last was bred,     And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go that thread!"     He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone.             In the air             Nowhere             Was a moonbeam bare;     Larger and nearer the shy stars shone:     Sure and certain the Moon was gone!     The Wind he took to his revels once more;             On down             And in town,          A merry-mad clown,     He leaped and holloed with whistle and roar--     When there was that glimmering thread once more!     He flew in a rage--he danced and blew;             But in vain             Was the pain             Of his bursting brain,     For still the Moon-scrap the broader grew     The more that he swelled his big cheeks and blew.     Slowly she grew--till she filled the night,             And shone             On her throne             In the sky alone     A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,     Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night.     Said the Wind, "What a marvel of power am I!             With my breath,             In good faith,             I blew her to death!--     First blew her away right out of the sky,     Then blew her in: what a strength am I!"     But the Moon she knew nought of the silly affair;             For, high             In the sky             With her one white eye,     Motionless miles above the air,     She never had heard the great Wind blare.