![]() | Nature-notes and impressions in prose and verse | ![]() |
[High up she glides, high up, the quartz-white moon]
High up she glides, high up, the quartz-white moon,Tipping the mountains with exultant fire,
And in her light each pine becomes a lyre,
And every wind an Oread-whispered tune.
![]() | Nature-notes and impressions in prose and verse | ![]() |