Morning Song

Oh, clear and blue and cold it rings —
So light and soft and airy;
So alive with bright and beginning things,
Happily it tarries
Beyond my sight, in faint starlight,
Where it rises slowly nearer;
Its hope and brightness daily make
Its presence all the dearer.
Oh, sweet and low and long it sings,
So lightly, soft and airy;
Oh, morning’s broken! Joy it brings —
Oh, how I wish to tarry!

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