I am enveloped in a dense white fog . Somewhere ,off in the distance, the lonely sound of a locomotive whistle breaks the silence. The Night Circus.

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Misty night on The Mound.

5

Far over the misty mountains old, / through dungeons deep and caverns old, / the pines were roaring on the heights; / the wind was moaning in the night. / The fire was red; it, flaming, spread. / The trees, like torches, blazed with light.

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É de uma beleza estonteante!

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