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 It sheds a shy solemnity,
This lamp in our poor room.
O grey and gold amenity, -- Silence and gentle gloom! Wide from the world, a stolen hour We claim, and none may know How love blooms like a tardy flower Here in the day's after-glow.
And even should the world break in With jealous threat and guile, The world, at last, must bow and win Our pity and a smile.

by Hart Crane
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