Metabole. (Alfred Castner King Poems)
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
HERE am I, weary for want of Sleep, Yet cannot reach a state of just repose ; Stubbornly still though ...
'TIS noon, the fitful sunlight feebly gleams Thro' hurrying clouds with dull uncertainty. Distorted shadows in strange fantasy Play like ...
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