Finding
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rom the candles and dumb shadows,And the house where love had died,I stole to the vast moonlightAnd the whispering life outside.But I found no lips of comfort,No home in the moon's light(I, little and lone and frightenedIn the unfriendly night),And no meaning in the voices. . . .Far over the lands and throughThe dark, beyond the ocean,I willed to think of YOU!For I knew, had you been with meI'd have known the words of night,Found peace of heart, gone gladlyIn comfort of that light. Oh! the wind with soft beguilingWould have stolen my thought away;And the night, subtly smiling,Came by the silver way;And the moon came down and danced to me,And her robe was white and flying;And trees bent their heads to meMysteriously crying;And dead voices wept around me;And dead soft fingers thrilled;And the little gods whispered. . . .But everDesperately I willed;Till all grew soft and farAnd silent . . .And suddenlyI found you white and radiant,Sleeping quietly,Far out through the tides of darkness.And I there in that great lightWas alone no more, nor fearful;For there, in the homely night,Was no thought else that mattered,And nothing else was true,But the white fire of moonlight,And a white dream of you.
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