In twilight's hush, where shadows play,
Amidst the trees, a whisper'd sway,
The wind, a zephyr, soft and low,
That stirs the leaves, and rustles slow.
The island dreams, in languid sleep,
Its beauty wrapt, in mystery deep,
The moon, a ghost, in silver white,
That glimmers through, the dark of night.
The woman walks, with steps so light,
Her hair, a cloud, that...
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