ON the mountain side they fashion, Those rifting shreds of storm, A figure of strange passion, A winged and sworded form. ... Read full text
Then flows the happy hour. That tyrant of the mist Turns to a wavering tower And melts in amethyst, very fine poem. tony
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7/28/2025 10:02:31 AM # 1.0.0
Then flows the happy hour. That tyrant of the mist Turns to a wavering tower And melts in amethyst, very fine poem. tony