I’m hiring the moon for a party;
One quarter’s light is hardly suitable,
But leaves intentions cloudy and inscrutable —
Premise and premises luminous only partly.
But with a new moon, deception is implied:
For ignorant beauties, something new encourages
A hunger for the limelight, luxe, and flourishes
The dark un-turning face will never provide.
The full moon, then, must be the chosen phase;
And though he must pay, the host is saved from sorrows
And disillusionment because he only borrows
What Artemis intensifies as she displays.
Oriels, fanlights, skylights in the hall
Serve as vessels when the caterer pours
If not from out of pitchers, out of doors,
And guests stand unintoxicated in thrall.