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I who walk in the dark,
Alone beyond all knowing,
Must watch tonight
Glad, sheltered light
In strangers' windows glowing.


Unto me, hungering
With unfulfilled desires,
The kind wind brings
Warm scent of things
That brew by strangers' fires.


I find my darkened house,
Silent and all alone,
And my sup of bread
That is dry and dead,
And no candle save mine own.