Ballads and Lyrics of Old France (15)

    HIDE this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon； So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest Loving and unawakened on thy breast； So shall no foul enchanter importune Thy quiet course； for now the night is boon, And through the friendly night unseen I fare, Who dread the face of foemen unaware, And watch of hostile spies in the bright noon. Thou knowest, Moon, the bitter power of Love； 'Tis told how shepherd Pan found ways to move, For little price, thy heart； and of your grace, Sweet stars, be kind to this not alien fire, Because on earth ye did not scorn desire, Bethink ye, now ye hold your heavenly place.