Iam notThou


Do Thy Dare Claim Angel

To be painted like genuine moonlight,
That spill'd from thine eyes in generous flow;
O Come, sweeping shadow, on t'ward the night!
Back'd by thy sainted sky of scarlet glow;
Rise quick, my feathers, and tempest shall part!
While violet clouds now ascend from the dark;
If Sun, or Moon! should so hasten thine heart,
Then the skies I'll climb, as thine heav'nly lark;
My fingers sing on, with celestial voice,

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