Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

Every night I hurry home to see
If a letter's there from you to me.
Every night I bow my head and say,
"There's no word at all from him today."

1. Closing Time: Public Library
2. He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
3. Do you remember still the little song
4. Florence kneels down to say her prayers
5. All through the day at my machine

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