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A Rainy Sunday


I love a rainy Sunday,

With all the world away;

The cozy hearth intensified

By gloom of outer day.


In silken gown fantastic,

I let my hair go free,

And idle in and out of books,

Or weave a melody.


The rain beyond the window

Chants on in monotone;

I muse among my household gods,

And laugh—to be alone.


The family is drowsy,

The very cat asleep;

And naught comes nigh my revery,

Growing in silence deep.


My books are dear companions,

My pictures well-loved friends,

My brown divan with Orient grace

A dreamy languor lends.


Come often, rainy Sundays,

Forbidding me to roam—

Come often, shut the world without,

And me within my home.


- Ruby Archer

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