Sapientia Lunae |
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The wisdom of the world said unto me;
Go forth and run, the race is to the brave;
Perchance some honour tarrieth for thee!
As tarrieth, I said, for sure, the grave.
For I had pondered on a rune of roses,
Which to her votaries the moon discloses.
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The wisdom of the world said: There are bays:
Go forth and run, for victory is good,
After the stress of the laborious days.
Yet, said I, shall I be the worms sweet food,
As I went musing on a rune of roses,
Which in her hour, the pale, soft moon discloses.
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Then said my voices: Wherefore strive or run,
On dusty highways ever, a vain race?
The long night cometh, starless, void of sun,
What light shall serve thee like her golden face?
For I had pondered on a rune of roses,
And knew some secrets which the moon discloses.
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Yea, said I, for her eyes are pure and sweet
As lilies, and the fragrance of her hair
Is many laurels; and it is not meet
To run for shadows when the prize is here;
And I went reading in that rune of roses
Which to her votaries the moon discloses.
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