I Walk Unseen On The Dry Smooth-shaven Green, To Behold The Wandering Moon Riding Near Her Highest Noon, Like One That Had Been Led Astray Through The Heav'n's Wide Pathless Way

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I walk unseen
On the dry smooth-shaven green,
To behold the wandering moon
Riding near her highest noon,
Like one that had been led astray
Through the heav'n's wide pathless way;
And oft, as if her head she bow'd,
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
-- John Milton (1608-1674)
-- Il Penseroso, Line 65

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