The moon – how definite its orb!
Yet gaze again & with a steady gaze
‘Tis there indeed – but where is it not –
It is suffused o’er all the sapphire Heaven,
Trees, herbage, snake-like Stream, unwrinkled Lake,
Whose very murmur does of it partake/
And low & close the broad smooth mountain
Is more a thing of Heaven than when
Distinct by one dim shade,
yet undivided from the universal cloud
In which it towers, infinite in height –
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834).
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