The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,-
But on the window licks the night.
Pile on the logs… Give me your hands,
Friends! No,- it is not fright…
But hold me… somewhere I heard demands…
And on the window licks the night.
(Hart Crane)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Friendship Poems, Food PoemsBased on Keywords: host, pile, fright, tempting, logs, demands, licks, fire-wood