Upon a cloud among the stars we stood.
The angel raised his hand and looked and said,
“Which world, of all yon starry myriad,
Shall we make wing to?” The still solitude ...
Heart to heart!
And the stillness of night and the moonlight, like hushed breathing
Silently, stealthily moving across thy hair!
O womanly face!
Tender and strong and lucent with infinite feeling,
Shrinking with startled joy, like wind-struck water,
And yet so frank, so unashamed of love!
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