TO-NIGHT

By Edward Thomas

HARRY, you know at night

The larks in Castle Alley

Sing from the attic's height

As if the electric light

Were the true sun above a summer valley:

Whistle, do n't knock, to-night.

I shall come early, Kate:

And we in Castle Alley

Will sit close out of sight

Alone, and ask no light

Of lamp or sun above a summer valley:

To-night I can stay late.