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| Where Goes The Day -a Rondeau- Where goes the day when forced away? Night slides across the silver bay With ghostly calm it steals the time, It cloaks the rhythm and the rhyme, And drenches darkly boats at bay. Night slays the day, in bed I lay Remains the night, in bed I stay. I shiver when the moon does climb. Where goes the day? Silver cold becomes what was gay Only fake light from lamps does stray Without the rhythm and the rhyme Come no soft songs from bards sublime. I only wish the light would stay Where goes the day? |
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