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✦ 65 ✦ A Stifling Night A drizzle fell—but left the grain Unbent within the rumbling sack; The dust alone gulped pills of rain, Like iron in the silent sand. The village hoped for no relief; As deep as death the poppy blazed, The swollen rye exuded heat, And God himself in fever raved. And in that orphaned and unsleeping— That sweating, measureless expanse— From posts the groans in panic fled, While wind, dug in, reviewed its plans. And in their wake the slanting drops Flew blindly past. Beside a fence Wet branches and a pallid wind— In hot dispute. I froze. They spoke of me! I felt that it would last forever, That garden and its dreadful talk. While from the street I overheard The bushes and the shutters speak—still unobserved; If they should see me—no escape; They’ll talk and talk and do me in. ...

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