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Weary moon on the river of the sky
The stir of light in the willows
Through dark shoals; the tiles on the graves
Of a beauty like to nothing on earth
And upon her brow he placed a wreath of
Myrtle and roses
Let their lamp at midnight be seen in tower high
Sometimes they are coming hard
In silence come dreaming time
Let their lamp at midnight
Be seen in tower high
The message and promises
The lost gardens beyond
In each and every age someone
Has sung unknowingly
The message and the promise from the lost
