Poem by Lesbia Harford

Closing Time: Public Library

At ten o'clock the great gong sounds its dread
Prelude to splendour. I push back my chair,
And all the people leave their books. We flock,
Still acquiescent, down the marble stair
Into the dark where we can't read. And thought
Swoops down insatiate through the starry air.

1. Summer Lightning
2. Machinist Talking
3. Do you remember still the little song
4. Child Sun
5. Pink eucalyptus flowers

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