| | R.004There shines the moon, at noon of night. Vision of Glory—Dream of light! Holy as heaven—undimmed and pure, Looking down on the lonely moor— And lonlier still beneath her ray That drear moor stretches far away Till it seems strange that aught can lie Beyond its zone of silver sky— Tstm,anon./ VoG—Dol!/ Hah—uap,/ Ldotlm—/ Alsbhr/ Tdmsfa/ Tisstacl/ Bizoss—/ |