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Editor's Selection of Poems
The Cruel Moon

by Robert Graves

The cruel Moon hangs out of reach   
Up above the shadowy beech.   
Her face is stupid, but her eye   
Is small and sharp and very sly.   
Nurse says the Moon can drive you mad? 
No, that’s a silly story, lad!   
Though she be angry, though she would   
Destroy all England if she could,   
Yet think, what damage can she do   
Hanging there so far from you?
Don’t heed what frightened nurses say:   
Moons hang much too far away. 
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