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Outside the sky is light with stars;

There’s a hollow roaring from the sea.

And, alas! for the little almond flowers,

  The wind is shaking the almond tree.

         

How little I thought, a year ago,

In the horrible cottage upon the Lee

       That he and I should be sitting so

 And sipping a cup of camomile tea.

          Light as feathers the witches fly,

  

The horn of the moon is plain to see;

        

By a firefly under a jonquil flower

            A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.