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Going Home from the Party
by Janet Lewis
I heard the far lowing
Of cattle, homeward going;
I heard the wind slowing
In thick-leaved bush;
I heard the quiet growing
Like leaves in the hush.
I heard the laughter fading;
Compliment, gay upbraiding
Into the quiet shading,
Night rising around;
Sunlight and daylight fading
Upon the air like sound.
I heard the deft passing
Of small creatures tracing
Night paths, and erasing
Day paths from the ground,
And silence deep-massing
In low-lying mound.
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