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I came back late and tired last night Into my little room,

To the long chair and the firelight And comfortable gloom.

But as I entered softly in I saw a woman there,

The line of neck and cheek and chin,

The darkness of her hair,

The form of one I did not know Sitting in my chair.

I stood a moment fierce and still,

Watching her neck and hair.

I made a step to her; and saw That there was no one there.

It was some trick of the firelight That made me see her there.

It was a chance of shade and light And the cushion in the chair.

Oh, all you happy over the earth,

That night, how could I sleep?

I lay and watched the lonely gloom;

And watched the moonlight

From wall to basin, round the room,

All night I could not sleep.

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Rupert Brooke

Rupert Chawner Brooke (3 August 1887 – 23 April 1915) was an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World Wa…

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