Forgotten Ground Regained
Moonrise, June 19, 1876
I woke in the midsummer not-to-call night in the white and the walk of the morning:The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe of a fingernail held to the candle,Or paring of paradisaical fruit, lovely in waning but lustrelessStepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow of dark Maenefa the mountain;A cusp yet clasped him, a fluke yet fanged him entangled him, not quit utterly.This was the prized, the desirable sight, unsought, presented so easily,Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me eyelid and eyelid of slumber.
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