stephentalla_Night_comes_a_spirit_through_my_being_steals_And_b_b8e472b5-deda-448a-aac7-a9fc721b4520

Night comes, a spirit through my being steals, And bids my eyes, tired eyes in sleep to close, And to the bidding, now my soul that feels No sense of quiet, quietens in repose.

Night comes, a spirit through my being steals,
And bids my eyes, tired eyes in sleep to close,
And to the bidding, now my soul that feels
No sense of quiet, quietens in repose.

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