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  • Evening Star

    'Twas noontide of summer,
    And mid-time of night;
    And stars, in their orbits,
    Shone pale, thro' the light
    Of the brighter, cold moon,
    'Mid planets her slaves,
    Herself in the Heavens,
    Her beam on the waves.
    I gazed awhile
    On her cold smile;
    Too cold- too cold for me-
    There pass'd, as a shroud,
    A fleecy cloud,
    And I turned away to thee,

    Proud Evening Star,
    In thy glory afar,
    And dearer thy beam shall be;
    For joy to my heart
    Is the proud part
    Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
    And more I admire
    Thy distant fire,
    Than that colder, lowly light.
    -Poe isn't always so creepy
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