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 I came back late and tired last night
Into my little room,
To the long chair and the firelight
And comfortable gloom.
But as I entered softly in I saw a woman there, The line of neck and cheek and chin, The darkness of her hair, The form of one I did not know Sitting in my chair.
I stood a moment fierce and still, Watching her neck and hair.
I made a step to her; and saw That there was no one there.
It was some trick of the firelight That made me see her there.
It was a chance of shade and light And the cushion in the chair.
Oh, all you happy over the earth, That night, how could I sleep? I lay and watched the lonely gloom; And watched the moonlight creep From wall to basin, round the room, All night I could not sleep.

Poem by Rupert Brooke
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