Nulli Secundus!

Rapt...by the zenith of her lambent force
I saw midnight embrace the harvest moon
And with shadow arms...held an intercourse,
Of glory yield and September strewn...
Where lunar beams blazed a scattered haze;
Wove as rich as dandelion composts
By craters fertile with surplus rays...
Flourishing shade into butterscotch ghosts!
Thusly cavemen could not otherwise deem
But that all her gold made the moon a queen,
And we, her subjects in a fecund dream
Where royal glamour radiates pristine...
To conquer the green of late summer nights
With the auramine sheen...of Olympian heights!