Lunar comparisons

If the moon’s our ideal of beauty, your pockmarked face could come close. The moon moves at a snail’s pace; for you, this would hardly be a race. The moon’s alone in the sky. If you’re lonely, I don’t know why.

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the sky

— by William Wordsworth

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the sky, “How silently, and with how wan a face!” Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph’s race! Unhappy Nuns, whose common breath’s a sigh Which they would stifle, move at such a pace! The northern Wind, to call thee to the chase, Must blow to-night his bugle horn. Had I The power of Merlin, Goddess! this should be: And all the stars, fast as the clouds were riven, Should sally forth, to keep thee company, Hurrying and sparkling through the clear blue heaven; But, Cynthia! should to thee the palm be given, Queen both for beauty and for majesty.