Burning, burning
A mellow tune upon my heart,
Yearning, yearning,
Sang the moon with ageless art.
Thrilling, thrilling
To the magic in the sky,
Filling, filling
Shadowed spots with silver dye.
Beaming, beaming
With a happiness supreme,
Gleaming, gleaming
As the cloudlets intervene.
Hoping, hoping
That its joy would never end,
Sloping, sloping,
I saw old dawn around the bend
Of night!
Evelyn Coffey
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