THE LOON
A lonely lake, a lonely shore,
A lone pine leaning on the moon;
All night the water-beating wings
Of a solitary loon.
A lone pine leaning on the moon;
All night the water-beating wings
Of a solitary loon.
With mournful wail from dusk to dawn
He gibbered at the taunting stars—
A hermit-soul gone raving mad,
And beating at his bars.
He gibbered at the taunting stars—
A hermit-soul gone raving mad,
And beating at his bars.
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