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The Night and I

From the Evening Public Ledger, May 12, 1915. By James Stephens.

The night was creeping on the ground,
She crept along without a sound
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and stole again
Along the grass up to the wall.

I heard the rustle of her shawl
Inside the room where I was hid;
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without,
She could not put my candle out.

So I peeped at the night, and she
Stared back solemnly at me.

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