Frost, Robert: Moon Compasses
Moon Compasses (Angol)I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause Between two downpours to see what there was. And a masked moon had spread down compass rays To a cone mountain in the midnight haze, As if the final estimate were hers; And as it measured in her calipers, The mountain stood exalted in its place. So love will take between the hands a face…
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