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The Seaside and the Fireside/Twilight

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For works with similar titles, see Twilight.

Twilight.




The twilight is sad and cloudy,The wind blows wild and free,And like the wings of sea-birdsFlash the white caps of the sea.
But in the fisherman's cottageThere shines a ruddier light,And a little face at the windowPeers out into the night.
Close, close it is pressed to the window,As if those childish eyesWere looking into the darkness,To see some form arise.
And a woman's waving shadowIs passing to and fro,Now rising to the ceiling,Now bowing and bending low.
What tale do the roaring ocean,And the night-wind, bleak and wild,As they beat at the crazy casement,Tell to that little child?
And why do the roaring ocean,And the night-wind, wild and bleak,As they beat at the heart of the mother,Drive the color from her cheek?