Page:Curtains - Hall.djvu/26

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TO A DOOR

Door, you stand in your darkened frame Mindful of your wooden might, Flaunting relentlessly your claim As guardian of sound and light.
Yet for all your vigil, Door, Shadows that slip on panting feet Over your threshold tinge the floor With what was sunlight on the street.
And sounds fluttering in to die (Door, you thought I should not know!) Were started by an echo's cry That was a voice not long ago.
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