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Anne Bronte - Night
Work rating: Medium

I love the silent hour of night, 
For blissful dreams may then arise, 
Revealing to my charmed sight 
What may not bless my waking eyes. 

And then a voice may meet my ear, 
That death has silenced long ago; 
And hope and rapture may appear 
Instead of solitude and woe. 

Cold in the grave for years has lain 
The form it was my bliss to see; 
And only dreams can bring again, 
The darling of my heart to me.
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