Poetry Month: The Waning Moon (Shelley)

The Waning Moon

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky East,
A white and shapeless mass—

– Percy Bysshe Shelley

The public domain is a wonderful thing.

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