Moonrise
The first snows of the year lie white
Upon the branches bending low;
A surging wind the flakes doth blow
Before the coming feet of Night —
Half dusk, half day, betwixt the pines
Green-yellow the full moon reclines
Green-yellow, and now wholly green,
While faint the windy stars are seen.
Upon the branches bending low;
A surging wind the flakes doth blow
Before the coming feet of Night —
Half dusk, half day, betwixt the pines
Green-yellow the full moon reclines
Green-yellow, and now wholly green,
While faint the windy stars are seen.
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