Moonlight, Falling ’cross the field and forest, Shines through trees and drapes, and no rest Will be mine again tonight. Cool white, Fading ev’ry other colour, Seems to make the world much smaller, And much nearer to my sight. Hunt-rite, Freeing all my pent-in power, Sends me run as swift from tower As an eagle in full flight. Bone-tight, Forming new my frame and motion, Sears along nerves like a potion Given by a witch in spite. Prey-fright, Fresh from seeing my approaching, Soon is ended by my poaching; Thus the mercy of my might. Daylight: Flowers deck my dining table; Sit wherever you are able; Venison’s my cook’s delight!
