I guess the creek rose a little, but it's only a day late and a few dollars short. I've been trying for a few years now to get a poem from this passage:
Meanwhile the moon has drawn clear of the chimneys. How ungrateful we have been to call her inconstant when she is the only body in the heavens to have remained faithful to us in spite of our intelligence, the only body that still revolves about us.
Jacquetta Hawkes, A Land. Intro by Robert Finch. Boston, Beacon Press, 1991, p. 14
I think this might do it:
Inconstant Moon
Of all that heavenly train,
None but you remain
In orbit round the home
We've learned is doomed to roam
Through nearly endless space
And leave behind no trace--
Is it you or me that lies
Each time you climb the skies?
4:42:21 PM 
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