Do you know, Brother Moon, what I once was, even before your
rays touched the Earth and raised the tides, even before young lovers
worshipped your warm corona, even before you were the death of every day? Do
you know my likeness outside of that delineated by your radiant pallor? Do you
know my breath beyond those wisps of smoke shown so ghostly by your
scintillating waves? I was the vast beyond before your light, I was the wonder
of scholars before you pinned down the skies, I was the harbinger before
gypsies read alms under your mantle. And, do you know, Brother Moon, what I
shall be again, when your hoary rivers of luminescence are dried and bled away
into the deep, when your crown be torn from your flaxen hair and blotted, when
your fame be only a whisper caught between the drivel-rants of the insane?
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