 THE WANING MOON AND like a dying lady, lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapt in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky east, A white and shapeless mass.  The Writer - 177. lappuse1919Pilnskats - Par šo grāmatu
 | Louis Untermeyer - 1933 - 655 lapas
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 | John Gawsworth - 1934 - 234 lapas
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 | Rearden Conner - 1935 - 301 lapas
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 | Hudson Strode - 1938 - 326 lapas
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 | Max Eastman - 1939 - 317 lapas
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 | Sir Tom Bridges - 1940 - 248 lapas
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 | Louis Untermeyer - 1942 - 1288 lapas
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