In the middle of the night,
When all around is dark and still,
There burns the everlasting light
Within the house upon the hill,

Where scholars inch through ancient tomes,
Physicians transplant hearts and spleens
And poets dream of pleasure domes
And making love to fairy queens,

And where I’m wont to make my bed
Beneath a roof more holes than tiles
And watch the stars whirl overhead
And know for sure that’s how God smiles,

And, since my fears have gone away,
I’ll stay forever and a day.

Photo by Massimiliano Morosinotto on Unsplash

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