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The sun, fallen
From its southern circus,
Has made bland carriage
Into a alterior hemisphere.

Night : a chord struck.
The lights of low streets,
Laminate with rain, pass
In series the dark windows

Of the last local service.
The motion of the vehicle
Is contrary to that of
The earth, so that night

Comes, imperceptibly but
Substantially, slower. The
World is calm with love!
Hold the light, dear one.