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Moons there wax and waneAgainagainagainEvery moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. 'About twelve by the moon-dial, One more filmy than the rest, Comes downstill downand down, While its wide circumference in easy drapery falls over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be. In the morning they arise, and their moony covering Is soaring in the skies
Moons there wax and waneAgainagainagainEvery moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. 'About twelve by the moon-dial, One more filmy than the rest, Comes downstill downand down, While its wide circumference in easy drapery falls over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be. In the morning they arise, and their moony covering Is soaring in the skies
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Moons there wax and waneAgainagainagainEvery moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. 'About twelve by the moon-dial, One more filmy than the rest, Comes downstill downand down, While its wide circumference in easy drapery falls over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be. In the morning they arise, and their moony covering Is soaring in the skies
Drepturi de autor:
Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
Formate disponibile
Descărcați ca DOC, PDF, TXT sau citiți online pe Scribd
Dim vales- and shadowy floods- Over spirits on the wing-
And cloudy-looking woods, Over every drowsy thing- Whose forms we can't discover And buries them up quite For the tears that drip all over! In a labyrinth of light- Huge moons there wax and wane- And then, how deep!- O, deep! Again- again- again- Is the passion of their sleep. Every moment of the night- In the morning they arise, Forever changing places- And their moony covering And they put out the star-light Is soaring in the skies, With the breath from their pale With the tempests as they toss, faces. Like- almost anything- About twelve by the moon-dial, Or a yellow Albatross. One more filmy than the rest They use that moon no more (A kind which, upon trial, For the same end as before- They have found to be the best) Videlicet, a tent- Comes down- still down- and down, Which I think extravagant: With its centre on the crown Its atomies, however, Of a mountain's eminence, Into a shower dissever, While its wide circumference Of which those butterflies In easy drapery falls Of Earth, who seek the skies, Over hamlets, over halls, And so come down again, Wherever they may be- (Never-contented things!) O'er the strange woods- o'er the Have brought a specimen sea- Upon their quivering wings.