Within the wood behind the hillThe moon got tangled in the trees.Her splendor made the branches thrillAnd thrilled the breeze.
The satyrs in the grotto bentTheir heads to see the wondrous sight."It is a god in banishmentThat stirs the night."
The little satyr looked and guessed:"It is an apple that one sees,Brought from that garden of the West -Hesperides."
"It is a cyclops' glaring eye.""A temple dome from Babylon.""A Titan's cup of ivory.""A little sun."
The tiny satyr jumped for joy,And kicked hoofs in utmost glee."It is a wondrous silver toy -Bring it to me!"
A great wind whistled through the blueAnd caught the moon and tossed it high;A bubble of pale fire it flewAcross the sky.
The satyrs gasped and looked and smiled,And wagged their heads from side to side,Except their shaggy little child,Who cried and cried.