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A collection of poetry by Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevenson.

Page 85 of 454
Table of Contents

I

Good Night

When the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again.

Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window-glass.

Must we to bed indeed? Well then, Let us arise and go like men, And face with an undaunted tread The long black passage up to bed.

Farewell, O brother, sister, sire! O pleasant party round the fire! The songs you sing, the tales you tell, Till far tomorrow, fare ye well!

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