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1858–1924

IV.

Edith Nesbit

Look out! The stars are shining, The dew makes gray the meadow! The jasmine stars are twining About your window bright;

The glow-worms green are creeping On lawns all dressed in shadow, The roses all are sleeping — Good-night, my heart, good-night!

The nightingale is singing Her song of ceaseless sorrow, The night's slow feet pass, bringing The day when I rejoice;

Beloved beyond measure, Our bridal is to-morrow — Oh, thrill the night with pleasure! Oh, let me hear thy voice!

From cloudy confines sliding, The moon sails white and splendid; No roses now are hiding The glory of their grace;

So, if my song thou hearest — For thee begun and ended — Light up the night, my dearest, And let me see thy face!

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IV. · Edith Nesbit · Poetry Cove