  The twilight is starred, The dawn has arisen; Light breaks from the east And Song from her prison. Faint odors and sounds The west-wind discloses Of laughter and birds, Of singing and roses. It is time to be gone— Day scatters the gloom; But here at my side, But still in the room, Like the angel of life, Too kind to depart, You hang at my lips, You hang at my heart! The Forum John Hall Wheelock |
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