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Poems

By Edward Dowden

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IN THE TWILIGHT
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 VIII. 
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86

IN THE TWILIGHT

A noise of swarming thoughts,
A muster of dim cares, a foil'd intent,
With plots and plans, and counterplans and plots;
And thus along the city's edges grey
Unmindful of the darkening autumn day
With a droop'd head I went.
My face rose,—through what spell?—
Not hoping anything from twilight dumb:
One star possessed her heaven. Oh! all grew well
Because of thee, and thy serene estate:
Silence . . . I let thy beauty make me great;
What though the black night come.