MEETING AT NIGHT
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he gray sea and the long black land;And the yellow half-moon large and low;And the startled little waves that leapIn fiery ringlets from their sleep,As I gain the cove with pushing prow, 5And quench its speed i' the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;Three fields to cross till a farm appears;A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratchAnd blue spurt of a lighted match, 10And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,Than the two hearts beating each to each!
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