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                                            BENEATH THE FULL MOON 
              
             Come, I will sing it in your ear: 
             Your dancing days are come. 
             All the feeling you hold dear 
             Will lift your spirit some; 
             Dance until the rosey dawn 
             All in a gay, glad rag. 
                  I carry the Sun in a golden cup, 
                  The Moon in a silver bag. 
              
             And I will sing you merrily 
             Into my ring of dooms, 
             And I will twine into your hair 
             A wreath of maiden blooms. 
             You'll turn, when dancing days wane low 
             To Crone, but not to Hag. 
                  I carry the Sun in a golden cup, 
                  The Moon in a silver bag. 



            
           As Maiden grows to Mother, 
             And Mother into Crone, 
             Dance, My darling daughter, 
             Beneath My rounded Moon. 
             Dance in argent splendor 
             Until your spirits flag. 
                  I carry the Sun in a golden cup, 
                  The Moon in a silver bag. 
              
                --Copyright (c) 1988 by Sourdough Jackson 
            The Lizard King-"I am the Lizard King; I can do 
            anything."(1:104/45.5) 
             
                                                                                           1876


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