The Wild Hunt (Johannes Carsten Hauch Poems)
When they thought that Denmark's kingSoundly in the graveyard slumbered,Words incredible, unnumbered,Through the land crept whispering.Rumor said: "The king hunts ...
When they thought that Denmark's kingSoundly in the graveyard slumbered,Words incredible, unnumbered,Through the land crept whispering.Rumor said: "The king hunts ...
We are the nightly weaverswho gather the invisible threadsfrom the Milky Way's outmost ringwhere the end of the loom stands.Hovering ...
I remember a far place, where I would gladly be;There, hours glided slowly, silently,As clear as silver pearls, strung on ...
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