valentina64

By valentina64

Dozing

But when those solemn bells invoke
   The midnight's slumbrous grace,
The ghosts of men come back again
   To haunt that curious place:
The ghosts of sages, poets, wits,
   Come back in goodly train;
And all night long, with mirth and song,
   They walk St. Martin's Lane.

Eugene Field 

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