Percy Bysshe Shelley
To the Moon
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth
And ever changing like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth
And ever changing like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?