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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