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The night was creeping on the ground;

She crept and did not make a sound

Until she reached the tree, and then

She covered it, and sole again

Along the grass beside the wall.

I heard the rustle of her shawl

As she threw blackness everywhere

Upon the sky and ground and air,

And in the room where I was hid:

But no matter what she did

To everything that was without,

She could not put my candle out.

So I stared at the night, and she

Stared back solemnly at me.