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London in July

What ails my senses thus to cheat?    What is it ails the place,

That all the people in the street    Should wear one woman's face?

The London trees are dusty-brown    Beneath the summer sky;

My love, she dwells in London town,    Nor leaves it in July.

O various and intricate maze,    Wide waste of square and street;

Where, missing through unnumbered days,    We twain at last may meet!

And who cries out on crowd and mart?    Who prates of stream and sea?

The summer in the city's heart—    That is enough for me.

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Amy Levy

Amy Judith Levy (10 November 1861 – 10 September 1889) was a British essayist, poet, and novelist best remembered for her literary gifts; her ex…

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