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AS A WHITE MOON, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: As a white moon comes to a lonely cloud
Last Line: And find it easier to suffer than forget.


AS a white moon comes to a lonely cloud,
Dark with the grief of many unshed tears,
She came to me; and even as that orb
She flooded me with light and then passed on,
Leaving my darkness greater than before.
Now all my days are like a miser's hand,
Counting the secret wealth of that rich hour
When her sweet presence I knew. The memory fades not
With hurry of the hours but gathers beauty
From my sad musing's wonder. I have seen
Her once in all these empty years: she passed
As any stranger, and yet farther away
Than any stranger could be. Nothing to her
Was that warm pledge she gave a winter's night
Under the constant stars, nor those sweet hours
We walked in the cool moonlight of a dream,
Whose waking came too soon, too sadly soon.

Springs have come with their pale flood of green,
And summers with their darker, deeper tides,
And winters have washed white three times the world
Since that amazing hour, and many a day
Have I rejoiced in power of my forgetting,
Yet only to fall back on my remembrance,
And find it easier to suffer than forget.





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