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- THE CRAZED MOON
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- CRAZED through much child-bearing
- The moon is staggering in the sky;
- Moon-struck by the despairing
- Glances of her wandering eye
- We grope, and grope in vain,
- For children born of her pain.
- Children dazed or dead!
- When she in all her virginal pride
- First trod on the mountain's head
- What stir ran through the countryside
- Where every foot obeyed her glance!
- What manhood led the dance!
- Fly-catchers of the moon,
- Our hands are blenched, our fingers seem
- But slender needles of bone;
- Blenched by that malicious dream
- They are spread wide that each
- May rend what comes in reach.
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