Like tufts of cotton colored red and rosy
And scattered through the baby sky at light
Eve’, twilight clouds are whirling around the white
moon, orbiting their spoke, all lush and lazy;
Or strands of cloth sent fluttering a’mosey
through late afternoon drowsying near night,
and circling about, like crimson kites in flight,
a beaming moon, swirling afloat and hazy;
The heavens,...
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