Aubade

A wineglass caught a lunar ray  
As efficiently as could be  
Blazing its own luminous way  
Toward a bleak eternity.  
It stopped awhile in the wine  
To ponder itself in the dark  
And contemplate all the things divine  
Seen by its far flung halo spark.  
It checked itself at wanton man  
And thought how here its path was blocked  
Or stymied by some other plan  
Wherein its mission was lightly mocked,  
And not by nature given a grace  
As much as it had in outer space...  
So by refraction it got away  
To mix once more with the break of day!