Show NOCTURNE li i lie i analil ark wonder of the night all the air for the brown moths wanga ta skim hut the titan are far away from him and the open window Is fall of light yle blown moth follows dies glow where golden haired loia reads aad dreama so still an maeci saint bhe teems with tapers before her and eleft bent low about her hair and the flame he wheels her hair full of and sweeter yet than the yellow roe ro e by the night dew wet lo 10 ajeet that faint to the flame he reels in the aw beep of his the flare and what maddens him more he does not know the dancing flame that scorches so or the yellow splendor of her hair on her brow and in soft little rings it lies like the of a ine he has neier seen a web so fine and he fears to touch it with hia wings bo he whirls and frantic beats at tho till in torture down on her book he blips ahe sweeps him aside with her finger tipa and his life out into the likht M D hatch in K york sun |