A Shropshire Lad/On your midnight pallet lying
XI
On your midnight pallet lying, Listen, and undo the door:Lads that waste the light in sighing In the dark should sigh no more;Night should ease a lover's sorrow;Therefore, since I go to-morrow, Pity me before.
In the land to which I travel,The far dwelling, let me say—Once, if here the couch is gravel,In a kinder bed I lay,And the breast the darnel smothersRested once upon another'sWhen it was not clay.
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