The morning mist
Has kissed
The dewy grass;
The lark has sung
And stung
The ear with Mother Nature’s song;
The first light of the dawn is long since past,
Another Autumn morning has begun.
And, as the forenoon fades to aft’ then gloaming,
Which beckons night,
The daylight
Swift disowning,
The Sun is gone; the sky is speckled clay,
One thing remains: the promise of the day.
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