The dawn breaks,
But it does not surprise:
For we have watched
From the valley,
And seen the long night
Of rosemary and rue.
We pass softly, with
Quiet feet and open eyes;
Bearing with us
All of the redeemed earth,
That we have made our own:
The empty song,
Repeats itself no more;
As time sinks deep
Into the depths of Divinity;
For to be alive,
Is more than the coming
And the going of breath,
Aloof and absolved from
The accidents of existence:
It is in the ground
Beneath our feet;
The stubble, and the chaff
Lie together in its chambers,
With graves full of the dust
That once passed in forms
That spoke and loved as men:
Their illusion haunts us,
But to see the night lift;
It is here we must walk.
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