"Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.
As it Were tissue of silver I'll wear, O Fate, thy grey, And go mistily radiant, clad Like the moon.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
As it Were tissue of silver I'll wear, O Fate, thy grey, And go mistily radiant, clad Like the moon.
