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THE PHASES OF THE MOON
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Their beauty dropped out of the loneliness
Of body and soul.
Robartes
The lovers' heart knows that.
Aherne
It must be that the terror in their eyes
Is memory or foreknowledge of the hour
When all is fed with light and heaven is bare.
Robartes
When the moon's full those creatures of the full
Are met on the waste hills by country men
Who shudder and hurry by: body and soul
Estranged amid the strangeness of themselves,
