per amica silentia lunae

or, across the ferny brae with the evil voodoo celt

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Meeting at Night

The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

- Robert Browning

This one has always appealed to me... it's just such a vivid picture of a late-night rendezvous. Browning understands the power of suggestion here, the way this is presented as a fragment, without context- it's for the reader to fill in the details, the larger story.


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