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  • She Comes Not

    She comes not when Noon is on the roses--
    Too bright is Day.

    She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
    From work and play.

    But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
    Roll in from Sea,

    By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight
    She comes to me.

    by Herbert Trench

     



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