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Morning (Dunbar)

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For works with similar titles, see Morning.

               MORNING
The mist has left the greening plain,
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,
The coquette rose awakes again
  Her lovely self adorning.
The Wind is hiding in the trees,
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,
Until the rose says "Kiss me, please,"
  'Tis morning, 'tis morning.

With staff in hand and careless-free,
The wanderer fares right jauntily,
For towns and houses are, thinks he,
  For scorning, for scorning.
My soul is swift upon the wing,
And in its deeps a song I bring;
Come, Love, and we together sing,
  "'Tis morning, 'tis morning."

This work was published before January 1, 1924, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.