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If Nightless...

If nature never bows to dusk,
The moon can't grant her nightly grace
And move the hands of poetry
As she glides in heaven
While she veils in her silver rays.
Her absence marks the lack of fools,
But between the choice of gaudy days
I rather tread the madman's ways
With awe at beauty of the sky
That both the dawn and day deny.

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