Reason has moons, but moons not hers,
Lie mirror’d on the sea,
Confounding her astronomers,
But O! delighting me.
. . . . .
BABYLON — where I go dreaming
When I weary of to-day,
Weary of a world grown grey.
. . . . .
GOD loves an idle rainbow,
No less than labouring seas.
(Ralph Hodgson)
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