~ The
Struggle
~
The moon
has a
face
like the
clock in
the
hall;
She
shines
on
thieves
on the
garden
wall,
On
streets
and
fields
and
harbour
quays,
And
birdies
asleep
in the
forks of
the
trees.
The
squalling
cat and
the
squeaking
mouse,
The
howling
dog by
the door
of the
house,
The bat
that
lies in
bed at
noon,
All love
to be
out by
the
light of
the
moon.
But all
of the
things
that
belong
to the
day,
Cuddle
to sleep
to be
out of
her way;
And
flowers
and
children
close
their
eyes
Till up
in the
morning
the sun
shall
arise.
Robert
Louis
Stevenson
|