O'er the wood's brow,
Pale, the moon stares; In every bough
Wandering airs Faintly suspire.
O heart's-desire!
Two willow-trees
Waver and weep, One in the breeze,
One in the deep Glass of the stream.
Dream we our dream!
An infinite
Resignedness
Rains where the white
Mists opalesce
In the moon-shower.
Stay, perfect hour!
Paul Verlaine
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