The Moon, Percy Bysshe Shelly
I.
And, like a dying lady lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The mood arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.
II.
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?
Source:
http://townofspring.com/2011/01/10/yellow-...
Posted By: How May I Help You NC
Sunday, March 11th 2012 at 12:05PM
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