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34

GOOD-NIGHT!

Good-night, my hero! I shall dream of you—
Ah me, how I do love the eventide,
And shadows that across the surface ride
Of the lawn! when you were absent, soldier true,
I heard your voice in every breeze that blew,
And used to shudder at a noise of nights,
And tremble, silly one, at simple sights:
But, now you're here, sweet, everything is new.
I love the lawn that dreary seemed before;
The very moths and bats are friendly things
And seem to wave a greeting in their wings,
And noises of the night alarm no more.
The sorrow and the loneliness is o'er:
A maiden wept once,—now behold she sings!
1870.