Morning.

    The eastern sky grew all aglow,
A tinted fleet sailed just below.

The thick wood and the clinging mist
Slow parted, wept good-bye, and kissed.

To primrose, tulip, daffodil,
The wind came piping gay and shrill:

"Wake up! wake up! while day is new,
And all the world is washed with dew!"

Jean Blewett

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