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Show THE POETS. I saw from Tamalpais the morning star Herald the morning thro her gates of gold (Tho yet the night reigned absolute and old, And day seemed past recall, or most afar) ; Whereat the hosts of light that cinctured are In evanescent roses, and that hold Tho vanguard of the dawn, uprising, rolled To sea the twilight's grey enormous bar. Sons of the dawn! Ye whose exalted light Foreruns the day, from an inviolate height " Your voices fall; for, set above your kind, Ye see tho morrow when tho world gropes blind In ancient darkness ore the East is white, And the new mornings strike from mind to mind. George Sterling in Papyrus. |