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Crepuscule du Matin

 All night I wrestled with a memory
Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought.
The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the lie Which hope too long has whispered.
So I sought The sleep which would not come, and night was fraught With old emotions weeping silently.
I heard your voice again, and knew the things Which you had promised proved an empty vaunt.
I felt your clinging hands while night's broad wings Cherished our love in darkness.
From the lawn A sudden, quivering birdnote, like a taunt.
My arms held nothing but the empty dawn.

by Amy Lowell
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