| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 828. Donald |
| | | By Henry Abbey |
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| O WHITE, white, light moon, that sailest in the sky, | |
| Look down upon the whirling world, for thou art up so high, | |
| And tell me where my Donald is who sailed across the sea, | |
| And make a path of silver light to lead him back to me. | |
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| O white, white, bright moon, thy cheek is coldly fair; | 5 |
| A little cloud beside thee seems thy wildly floating hair; | |
| And if thou wouldst not have me wan, and pale, and cold like thee, | |
| Go, make a mighty tide to draw my Donald back to me. | |
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| O light, white, bright moon, that dost so fondly shine, | |
| There is not a lily in the world but hides its face from thine: | 10 |
| I too shall go and hide my face close in the dust from thee, | |
| Unless with light and tide thou bring my Donald back to me. | |
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