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THE MOON
- THERE is a lovely lady,
- Whom I have often seen,
- She’s fair and bright and beautiful,
- And she was born a queen.
- She looks both mild and gentle,
- Though she lives in regal state,
- And her attendant nobles
- In countless myriads wait.
- Her mien is humble, and with them
- Her dignity she shares,
- She would not that her lustrous eye
- Should dim the light of theirs.
- Upon the ground her beaming smiles
- And blessings fall unheard,
- She kisses every folded flower
- And every silent bird.
- If, when we draw our curtains,
- We draw them not too tight,
- She steals a glance into our room
- And wishes us good‐night!
E.K.
