MEETING AT NIGHT

by: Robert Browning (1812-1889)

      HE gray sea and the long black land;
      And the yellow half-moon large and low;
      And the startled little waves that leap
      In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
      As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
      And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
      Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
      Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
      A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
      And blue spurt of a lighted match,
      And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
      Than the two hearts beating each to each!

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