White in the moonlight,
Wet with dew,
We have known the languor
Of being two.
We have been weary
As children are,
When over them, radiant,
A stooping star,
Bends their Good-Night,
Kissed and smiled:—
Each was mother,
Each was child.
Child, from your forehead
I kissed the hair,
Gently, ah, gently:
And you were
Mistress and mother
When on your breast
I lay so safely
And could rest.
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