Conversion

How like the Moon am I, how like the Moon.
With all the world betwixt the Sun and me
I shone in single splendor: fair and free.
But all my light came from a distant noon
That I could not yet see for all its flame.
Too slowly Time did fate us for to meet
While self-shine faded in the growing heat;
And I, a crescent ghost without a claim
To any of my former light, now long
To wane until this stolen self is gone,
That I may disappear amid the dawn.
And when I am at last where I belong
They shall announce that here I was newborn.
For lonely light, I shall not pause to mourn.

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