The Dawn

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The Dawn

And must I ever wake, gray dawn, to know

Thee standing sadly by me like a ghost?

I am perplexed with thee that thou shouldst cost

This earth another turning! All aglow

Thou shouldst have reached me, with a purple show

Along far mountain-tops! and I would post

Over the breadth of seas, though I were lost

In the hot phantom-chase for life, if so

Thou earnest ever with this numbing sense

Of chilly distance and unlovely light,

Waking this gnawing soul anew to fight

With its perpetual load: I drive thee hence!

I have another mountain-range from whence

Bursteth a sun unutterably bright!