| Breakfast Table... Robert Graves... |
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Breakfast peremptorily closes The reign of Night, her dream extravagances Recalled for laughter only. Yet here we sit at our own table, Brooding apart on spells of midnight love Love irreversable: |
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Spells that have locked our hearts together, Never to falter, never again to stray Into the fierce dichotomy of Day; Night has a gentler laughter. |
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