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A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916], at


In the ravine the water wanders through;
Soundless it laps the stems of tall bamboo.
Westward a tiny strip of green all scrolled
With fairy pennons flaunting, red and gold.
   Oh rare! Oh delicate is spring!
Thatched roofs face one another. All day long
Silent I dream. No bird breaks into song,
   The very hills are slumbering.

Next: Songs of the Night