Great poetry of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Poem by William Wordsworth

Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high

Traveling where she from time to time enshrouds

Her head, and nothing loth her Majesty

Renounces, till among the scattered clouds

One with its kindling edge declares that soon

Will reappear before the uplifted eye

A Form as bright, as beautiful a moon,

To glide in open prospect through clear sky.

Pity that such a promise e’er should prove

False in the issue, that yon seeming space

Of sky should be in truth the steadfast face

Of a cloud flat and dense, through which must move

(By transit not unlike man’s frequent doom)

The Wanderer lost in more determined gloom.

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