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Gaze at the full moon.
Weaving its beam into the wide arms of a shallow summer stream.
Shadows they move.
As an evening approach.
Yielding to only the One up above.
Tho only he knows.
Of Thou cup I have spilt.
In spite of these times.
My flowers dry.
And they wilt.
But oh the sweetness and calm of night.
This refuge of mine.
May, oh may I
Before the dawn breaks.
Serenity find.
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