Light-O'-Love

And now, at last, I must away,
But if I tend another fire
In some man's house this you will say
— It is not that her love doth tire:
This is the price she has to pay,
For bread she gets no other way,
Still dreaming of her heart's desire.

And so she went out from the door
While I sat quiet, in my chair:
She ran back once, again — no more ...
I heard a footstep on the stair!
A lifted latch! One moment fleet
I heard the noises of the street,
Then silence booming everywhere!
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