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The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air.
Opposite my window,
The moon cuts,
Clear and round,
Through the plum-coloured night.
Pale, with the blue of high zeniths, shimmered over with silver, brocaded
In smooth, running patterns, a soft stuff, with dark knotted fringes, it lies there,
Warm from a woman’s soft shoulders…
In 1800, it was possible to imagine what might be turning Europe into a new direction, away from the lingering powers of medieval institutions like the monarchy, the Catholic Church, … Continue reading →
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