Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The Waning Moon

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. 

1. Wine Of The Fairies
2. Homer's Hymn to Minerva
3. Liberty
4. The Fitful Alternations of the Rain
5. To Mary

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