Fairy dust

Splits the night

In plates of rust

And shafts of light

On one side flowers

Cradle their heads

On the sother side are showers

And dandelion beds

When the cycle of zephyrs

Dries the rainbow’s twilit shifts

The midnight defers

Its fairy dust gifts

Until the moon

Piqued at its invention

Lets go of its boons

And in quarreling attention

The stripe of its vassals

And the ring of its faithful

Would part with its parcels

And powder the grateful

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