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I Was At Hastings Gardens And I Saw
I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
High, high above and stretching through the stars
The giant Night crawling inexorably
The sea ebbed and flowed all quietly
While giant Night crawled inexorably
Across the marbled blue of heaven’s dome.
I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
Nigh, nigh around, around me turn and churn
A mist full-hovering around and like a net
Incorporating all it met: grey like a phantom
Stood the Night
Like a grey thief in phantom’s garbs full dressed.
I was at Hastings Gardens and I saw
A sickle huge scar heaven’s face
And spreading horror like a scimitar
Amidst the nebulae amidst the stars
And of a sudden me thought that I heard
A cry pervasive high across the skies
Lo cometh Night make way, make way
I looked in motion saw the sickle huge
Like clouds spreading over heaven’s whole
Is it the Night? Is it The Night?
Is Night a moving sickle in heaven’s face?
No reply to me came; and from the ravelin
Two old oaks whispering in the night I heard.
poem
by
Emmanuel George Cefai
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