Poesy

To-Night

HARRY, you know at nightThe larks in Castle AlleySing from the attic's heightAs if the electric lightWere the true sun above a summer valley:Whistle, don't knock, to-night.

I shall come early, Kate:And we in Castle AlleyWill sit close out of sightAlone, and ask no lightOf lamp or sun above a summer valley:To-night I can stay late.

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