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Edgar Allan Poe - Evening StarEdgar Allan Poe - Evening Star
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`Twas noontide of summer,                And mid-time of night;              And stars, in their orbits,                Shone pale, thro` the light              Of the brighter, cold moon,                `Mid planets her slaves,              Herself in the Heavens,                Her beam on the waves.                  I gazed awhile                  On her cold smile;              Too cold- too cold for me-                There pass`d, as a shroud,                A fleecy cloud,              And I turned away to thee,                Proud Evening Star,                In thy glory afar,              And dearer thy beam shall be;                For joy to my heart                Is the proud part              Thou bearest in Heaven at night,                And more I admire                Thy distant fire,              Than that colder, lowly light.
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