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Bed in Summer

 In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?

Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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