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DAWN

Day’s fondest moments are at dawn, 
  Refreshed by his long sleep, the Light 
  Kisses the languid lips of Night 
Ere she can rise and hasten on. 
All glowing from his dreamless rest 
He holds her closely to his breast, 
And sees her dusky eyes grow dim, 
’Till, lo ! she dies for love of him.

                        —ELLA WHEELER