 | By The Way |  |
So the grave moon, clad in white,
From the cloister of a cloud
Emerging softly into light
Walketh through the wastes of night,
Too unrivall'd to be proud.
From the cloister of a cloud
Emerging softly into light
Walketh through the wastes of night,
Too unrivall'd to be proud.
| By The Way | |