At Dawn
She only knew the birth and death
Of days, when each that died
Was still at morn a hope, at night
A hope unsatisfied.
The dark trees shivered to behold
Another day begin;
She, being hopeless, did not weep
As the grey dawn came in.
Of days, when each that died
Was still at morn a hope, at night
A hope unsatisfied.
The dark trees shivered to behold
Another day begin;
She, being hopeless, did not weep
As the grey dawn came in.
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