THE sun appears! A glorious sight!
The crescent-moon clings round him now.
What could this wondrous pair unite?
How to explain this riddle? How?
HATEM.
May this our joy’s foreboder prove!
In it I view myself and thee;
Thou calmest me thy sun, my love,—
Come, my sweet moon, cling thou round me!
(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)
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Based on Topics: Sense & Perception PoemsBased on Keywords: calmest, hatem, crescent-moon, foreboder