When I peruse your pocked and cratered face
Billions of years after the accident, 
The cosmic crash that gave you violent birth, 
Then I reflect how short and transient 
Is life for me, for all the human race 
And every living thing on Planet Earth.
If you were not a senseless rocky ball, 
You would consider it a lot of fun 
That men revered you as a deity, 
God or goddess, and sibling of the sun.
But you would think the funniest thing of all 
Blaming the moon for men's insanity.
Nightly reminder of life's brevity, 
Phoebe, shine on for all eternity!