THE birds that soar break space Like heavy bodies hurled! Not so the birds of night They move as in a sphere On which they touch always How patterned their flight! The owl, the whippoorwill! And like volcano`s ash His plumes all cinderous Black mirrors are his eyes (The owl`s). They`ll fill with light What time will come the cries As from tongues taut with dews (The whippoorwills). What sounds Are in their day-lost world, What motions and what hues!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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