 | Minuscula |  |
57
Cynthia
When she arose, as the maid-moon rises,
Hallowing the darkened air,
A thousand silver and gold surprises
Sprang round her everywhere.
Hallowing the darkened air,
A thousand silver and gold surprises
Sprang round her everywhere.
The old worn world was a new strange world,
Wonder and joy were there;
And my heart like a late-born flower unfurled
That never had hope to be fair.
Wonder and joy were there;
And my heart like a late-born flower unfurled
That never had hope to be fair.
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