IN THE MOONLIGHT WILDERNESS
Encintured with a twine of leaves,
That leafy twine his only dress!
A lovely Boy was plucking fruits,
By moonlight, in a wilderness.
The moon was bright, the air was free,
And fruit and flowers together grew
On many a shrub and many a tree
And all put on a gentle hue,
Hanging in the shadowy air
Like a picture rich and rare.
It was a climate where, they say,
The night is more belov'd than day.
But who that beauteous Boy beguil'd,
That beauteous Boy, to linger here ?
Alone, by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild--
Has he no friend, no loving mother near ?
Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
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