Still much to read, but too late
Still much to read, but too late.
I turn out the light.
The leaves of the tree are green beside the street-lamp;
the wind hardly blows and the tree makes no noise.
Tomorrow up early,
the crowded street-car, the factory.
I turn out the light.
The leaves of the tree are green beside the street-lamp;
the wind hardly blows and the tree makes no noise.
Tomorrow up early,
the crowded street-car, the factory.
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