The shallop of the moon lay low,A great star grasping at her horn,Her grossesse merged in haloAnd elfin flutes on the wind borne,—O heart o' me! Such fluting!Ropes of silver I saw swungFrom star to star and fairies swingingAnd swaying to the airs they sungAnd lilting to their singing—O heart o' me! Such singing!There was a pricking in the air,Whip—snap—of fairy repartee—And floating near—O clear! O rare!The elfin horns blared merrilie—O heart o' me! Such blaring!The shallop of the moon low lornAmong the clouds was borne,The great star graspt her horn,A falling globe down flared—And far the trumpets blared!O heart 0' me! Such faring!
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