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Lyric Poem · Nature

The Waning Moon

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,

Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,

Out of her chamber, led by the insane

And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,

The moon arose up in the murky East,

A white and shapeless mass —

This poem is in the public domain.

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