The magic of the silver night

  lies in silence upon the stone

  Where spectral mountains dream in light

  in dark lands as yet unknown.

  In pallid, deep eternal sleep,

  enchanted valleys, far and strange

  languish beneath these splendours deep,

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  forever silent without change.

  The fruit of knowledge, now long gone

  the light is gone from this embrace,

  the verdant forest now withdrawn

  to a single thing, bereft of grace:

  A grey and withered leafless tree,

  a statue carved of weathered bone

  is drawn from a god's memory;

  it stands in moonward fields, alone