  WHEN twilight late delayeth, And morning wakes in song, And fields are full of daisies, I know the days are long; When Toil is stretched at nooning, Where leafy pleasures throng, When nights o’errun in music, I know the days are long. When suns afoot are marching, And rains are quick and strong, And streams speak in a whisper, I know the days are long. When hills are clad in velvet, And winds can do no wrong, And woods are deep and dusky, I know the days are long. |
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