The Darkening

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There
the wild man of the darkening cried
treading softly with startling care
in this waning night
a beast so rare
retreating from the coming light
with the silver prize cut
from a maiden’s hair
who swooned,
as his bronze struck true,
and sighed,
“I’ll gladly give you more, but stay.”
He laughed,
“See how the coming sun announces day?
See how the shimmering moon beckons?”
and was away.