| Coronet of Moonlight... Robert Graves... |
|
Such was the circumstance of our first love: Sea, silence, a full moon. Nevertheless, even the same silence Amended by a distant nightingale From the same past, and gently heaving surf, Brings me no sure revival of our dream- For to be surely with you is to sleep, Having well earned my coronet of moonlight By no mere counting of processional sheep. |
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