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A Boy's Will

Now Close the Windows

It is time to make an end of speaking.
 NOW close the windows and hush all the fields; 
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.