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Beware!
By Walter De La Mare
An ominous bird sang from its branch,
'Beware, O Wanderer!
Night 'mid her flowers of glamourie spilled
Draws swiftly near:
'Night with her darkened caravans,
Piled deep with silver and myrrh,
Draws from the portals of the East,
O Wanderer near!
'Night who walks plumèd through the fields
Of stars that strangely stir -
Smitten to fire by the sandals of him
Who walks with her.'
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