After Song, An
So art thou broken in upon me, Apollo,
Through a splendor of purple garments —
Held by the yellow-haired Clymene
To clothe the white of thy shoulders —
Bare from the day's leaping of horses.
This is strange to me, here in the modern twilight.
Through a splendor of purple garments —
Held by the yellow-haired Clymene
To clothe the white of thy shoulders —
Bare from the day's leaping of horses.
This is strange to me, here in the modern twilight.
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