When I get up to light the fire,
When I get up to light the fire,
And dress with all the speed I may
By candle-light, I dread the hours
That go to make a single day.
But then I leave my room, and see
How brightly, clearly darkness shines,
When stars ten thousand miles away
Are caught in our verandah vines.
And I am almost glad that fires
Have to be lit, before the day
Comes up between the trees and drives
The strange familiar dark away.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Added by Poetry Lover
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