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1862–1934

MORNING.

Jean Blewett

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!”

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MORNING. · Jean Blewett · Poetry Cove