The Human Inheritance The New Hope, Motherhood. By William Sharp |
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The Human Inheritance | ||
XXVIII. MOONRISE.
(December.)
The snow-clad fields are flushed with red,
As though the sun's last dying rays
Ensanguin'd them with crimson blaze—
For lo, in the wan skies o'erhead
The moon hangs as though dipped in blood:
And almost the stream's frozen flood
As though the sun's last dying rays
Ensanguin'd them with crimson blaze—
For lo, in the wan skies o'erhead
The moon hangs as though dipped in blood:
And almost the stream's frozen flood
Seems like a wound that has just bled
Till now the earth lies cold and dead.
Till now the earth lies cold and dead.
The Human Inheritance | ||