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More poems by Hart CraneHart Crane | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments

Fear

Hart Crane


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.


Anonymous submission.

Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 5 Sep 2008 11:30 AM | Viewed: 4074 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/8158/ | Viewed on 5 September 2008.
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