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Fairy-land | Poems by Edgar Allan Poe · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: Dim veils, and shadowy floods, and cloudy looking woods whose
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  Speaker 1: forms we can't discover, for the tears that drip all
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  Speaker 1: over huge moons. There wax and wane again again again,
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  Speaker 1: every moment of the night, forever changing places, and they
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  Speaker 1: put out the starlight with the breath from their pale
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  Speaker 1: faces about twelve by the moon dial one more filmy
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  Speaker 1: than the rest, a kind, which upon trial they have
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  Speaker 1: found to be the best, comes down, still, down and down,
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  Speaker 1: with its center on the crown of a mountain's eminence,
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  Speaker 1: while its wide circumference in easy drapery falls over hamlets,
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  Speaker 1: over halls wherever they may be, or the strange woods,
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  Speaker 1: or the sea, over the spirits on the wing, over
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  Speaker 1: every drowsy thing, and buries them up quite in a
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  Speaker 1: labyrinth of light. And then how deep, oh deep, is
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  Speaker 1: the passion of their sleep. In the morning they arise,
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  Speaker 1: and their moony covering is soaring in the skies with
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  Speaker 1: the tempests as they toss like almost anything, or a
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  Speaker 1: yellow albatross. They use that moon no more for the same,
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  Speaker 1: And as before, the delicate a tent which I think
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  Speaker 1: extravagant its atomies, however, into a shower dissever of which
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  Speaker 1: those butterflies of earth who seek the skies and so
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  Speaker 1: come down again, never contented. Things have brought a specimen
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  Speaker 1: upon their quivering wings.