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Morning-Glory

 In this meadow starred with spring 
Shepherds kneel before their king.
Mary throned, with dreaming eyes, Gowned in blue like rain-washed skies, Lifts her tiny son that he May behold their courtesy.
And green-smocked children, awed and good, Bring him blossoms from the wood.
Clear the sunlit steeples chime Mary’s coronation-time.
Loud the happy children quire To the golden-windowed morn; While the lord of their desire Sleeps below the crimson thorn.

Poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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