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To-Night

Harry, you know at night
The larks in Castle Alley
Sing from the attic’s height
As if the electric light
Were the true sun above a summer valley:
Whistle, don’t knock, to-night.

I shall come early, Kate:
And we in Castle Alley
Will sit close out of sight
Alone, and ask no light
Of lamp or sun above a summer valley:
To-night I can stay late. 

 

Published inPoems

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