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— George Meredith"Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars."
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When stars are in the quiet skies, Then most I pine for thee; Bend on me, then, thy tender eyes, As stars look on the sea.
— Ernst Gottlieb Baron
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All through the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart of the satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred- Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard.
— Sara Teasdale
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