Nightfall

by Sara Teasdale

　　

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We will never walk again As we used to walk at night, Watching our shadows lengthen Under the gold street-light When the snow was new and white. We will never walk again Slowly, we two, In spring when the park is sweet With midnight and with dew, And the passers-by are few. I sit and think of it all, And the blue June twilight dies, Down in the clanging square A street-piano cries And stars come out in the skies.

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