If you love the moon so much, you cried,
Then marry her! You even turned her way
To stare her out: as if to put the moon
Back in her place (that is to say, in orbit).
She blushed, in a bloodless, pretty kind of way
And I laughed. However, though you mock it much
I care for her; and though you feign jealousy,
If you look too long perhaps you’ll see, my love,
That the moon is deep with jealousy of us.