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Silence . . . .
And in the east the moon is rising slowly,
Majestically spreading her brilliance o'er all the countryside.
impenetrable secrecy of the night unbroken;
no breath of wind stirring the jacarandas,
no dog howling to the moon.
By the lake willows
lean, striving to behold their own reflections;
to the right log cabins sleep peacefully on,
dreaming of the morrow.
And over all, silence.
lifting their dark profiles to the velvet sky above;
the silvery ribbon of the stream meandering,
soundlessly slipping by,
and the silence still unbroken,
serene, calm, peaceful,
slumbers on unmindful of the glory of the morning.
MARGARET LANG, 5th Year
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