The last

by Feb 11, 2004Poetry

Under what chilling starligh do you stand
In this immortal dream?
Why hath thee wander’d to this land;
‘Tis not as you had last seen.

Thy kin have fled to starlit shores,
In ships of elven white,
For ’twas their fate, and maby yours;
But ye chose thy dying night.

And cast about thy sorrow
Stands the land that once thee knew,
For autumn turned to winter;
And none are left, but you.

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