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1872–1931

UNFINISHED

Everard Jack Appleton

The radiant dawn flows up the empty sky, Its singing colors heralding the day, And yet, before the tardy sun is high, Unfinished morning fades and slips away.

While Nature holds her fragrant breath at dawn Watching the loveliness she's made — it's gone! From dew-drenched garden thrills a thrush's call — That liquid note that all night long was stilled —

The living chalice, brown and bright and small, Seems with the joy of living overfilled — Then suddenly, unfinished, clear and sweet The song is drowned in noises from the street.

So at the edge of dusk my love for you Would speak to your white soul, would humbly come To tell the age-old story, ever new — But in the pulsing twilight Love is dumb!

Oh, heart of mine, within your quiet breast Unfinished dawn — and song — and love — find rest!

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UNFINISHED · Everard Jack Appleton · Poetry Cove