Quartet
T Tom Billsborough
0
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Song and moonlight, both of silver,
Echo as the sunset quits
This avenue of aspen trees,
Which gently shake their tremulous leaves,
And a nightingale begins to call
And the shy moon, emerging from the clouds,
Sends a cool rejoinder.
It is a courtship to remember
As we link hands and link the music
To the mirroring colour.
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