Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 29

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XXIX GO!
Go at the deepest, darkest dead of night,
 When no foot shall be stirring save thine own,
 Go forth, unlighted, to his couch, alone,
And break his slumber with thy kisses light.

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Go, while the deeds and characters of day
 Are but as dreams and fleeting visions vain.
 Go, take him to thy beating heart again,
Ere all the world awake and find the way!

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