A ship, an isle, a sickle moon--
With few but with how splendid stars
The mirrors of the sea are strewn
Between their silver bars !

An isle beside an isle she lay
The pale ship anchored in the bay,
While in the young moon's port of gold
A star-ship--as the mirrors told--
Put forth its great and lonely night
To the unreflecting Ocean Night.
And still, a ship upon her seas,
The isle and the island cypresses
Went sailing on without the gale:
And still there moved the moon so pale,
A crescent ship without a sail!


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