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LAUGHTER and singing come with the morning,
When Life doth mask his face with a gilded visor,
And dons his arrogant clothes.
But in the night,
When the unsheathed moon stands naked and pale,
We too put off our opulent disguise
And stand alone in the baffling darkness,
Fighting with our sins,
Weeping for our loneliness,
That moon-like gropes forever through the desolate air.

1918

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