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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.


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Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 12 Sep 2026 2:55 AM | Viewed: 8500 times

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