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[366] The day died out, the night came down:
     Her evening prayer she said,
While, through the dark, strange faces seemed
     To mock her as she prayed.

The present horror deepened all
     The fears her childhood knew;
The awe wherewith the air was filled
     With every breath she drew.

And could it be, she trembling asked,
     Some secret thought or sin
Had shut good angels from her heart
     And let the bad ones in?

Had she in some forgotten dream
     Let go her hold on Heaven,
And sold herself unwittingly
     To spirits unforgiven?

Oh, weird and still the dark hours passed;
     No human sound she heard,
But up and down the chimney stack
     The swallows moaned and stirred.

And o'er her, with a dread surmise
     Of evil sight and sound,
The blind bats on their leathern wings
     Went wheeling round and round.

Low hanging in the midnight sky
     Looked in a half-faced moon.
Was it a dream, or did she hear
     Her lover's whistled tune?

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