The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to search And wash the whole world clean as g… - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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The cypress stood up like a church
That night we felt our love would hold,
And saintly moonlight seemed to search
And wash the whole world clean as gold;
The olives crystallized the vales'
Broad slopes until the hills grew strong:
The fireflies and the nightingales
Throbbed each to either, flame and song.
The nightingales, the nightingales.