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One silent night of late, When every creature rested, Came one unto my gate And, knocking, me molested.

Who's that, said I, beats there, And troubles thus the sleepy? Cast off, said he, all fear, And let not locks thus keep ye.

For I a boy am, who By moonless nights have swerved; And all with show'rs wet through, And e'en with cold half starved.

I pitiful arose, And soon a taper lighted; And did myself disclose Unto the lad benighted.

I saw he had a bow And wings, too, which did shiver; And, looking down below, I spied he had a quiver.

I to my chimney's shine Brought him, as Love professes, And chafed his hands with mine, And dried his drooping tresses.