And like a spring That gains its power by being tightly stayed, The impatient thing Into the room Its whole glad heart doth fling, And ere the gloom Melts into light, and window blinds are rolled, I hear a bounce upon the bed, I feel a creeping toward me a soft head, And on my face A tender nose, and cold This is the way, you know, that dogs embrace And on my hand, like sun-warmed rose-leaves flung,

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