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Written by: Hart Crane | Biography
| Poems
 | Quotes |
 The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,—
But on the window licks the night.
Pile on the logs.
Give me your hands, Friends! No,— it is not fright.
But hold me.
somewhere I heard demands.
And on the window licks the night.

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