Clair de Lune [Draft]

Clair de Lune, the pensive maid of hopeful dreams,
She is the moon, the moon unto herself.

And with her song I drift amid a world
Of ethereal dreams upon a dreamy cloud.

A kiss, a kiss, dear bless me with such love
Of joyous infinitude, as sent from above.

The end, the end, it leaves me thus in silence,
Alone to watch the moon in stoic peace.

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