The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud

The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath a Cloud (styled The Moon lay hidden beneath a Cloud) was an Austrian musical duo composed of Albin Julius and Alzbeth. Their music reflected their deep fascination with myriad aspects of European medievalism including ritual, clerical chants and the daily experience of the peasantry.

Read more about The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud:  Overview, Post-Split, Compilations

Famous quotes containing the words moon, lay, hidden, beneath and/or cloud:

    When we choose to be parents, we accept another human being as part of ourselves, and a large part of our emotional selves will stay with that person as long as we live. From that time on, there will be another person on this earth whose orbit around us will affect us as surely as the moon affects the tides, and affect us in some ways more deeply than anyone else can. Our children are extensions of ourselves in ways our parents are not, nor our brothers and sisters, nor our spouses.
    Fred Rogers (20th century)

    Where is the world we roved, Ned Bunn?
    Hollows thereof lay rich in shade
    By voyagers old inviolate thrown
    Ere Paul Pry cruised with Pelf and Trade.
    To us old lads some thoughts come home
    Who roamed a world young lads no more shall roam.
    Herman Melville (1819–1891)

    It is no longer a flame hidden in my veins; now it is Venus in all her might fastened to her prey.
    Jean Racine (1639–1699)

    To be shelterless and alone in the open country, hearing the wind moan and watching for day through the whole long weary night; to listen to the falling rain, and crouch for warmth beneath the lee of some old barn or rick, or in the hollow of a tree; are dismal things—but not so dismal as the wandering up and down where shelter is, and beds and sleepers are by thousands; a houseless rejected creature.
    Charles Dickens (1812–1870)

    These boys who love their mother
    who loves men, who passes on
    her sons to other women;

    The cloud across the sky. The windy pines.
    the trickle gurgle in the swampy meadow

    this is our body.
    Gary Snyder (b. 1930)