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Sagas
of Vaster Britain: Poems of the Race, the Empire and
the Divinity of Man
by
William Wilfred Campbell
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DAWN
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THOU
god of all the golden-footed hours!
Dwelling ’twixt
the dewy night and day:
Hidden deep in rosy budding bowers,
Where the young winds
from yesternight astray
Wander, and faint and
waver, and sweetly lose their way.
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O happy! happy! never to know the heat,
The toil and sweat and
groan of burning noon;
The fever and the ache; the wearied feet
Of those who moan beneath
the sun and moon,
Sad children of this earth
and all its bitter boon.
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O happy! happy! never canst thou know
The sorrow and the sad
despairs of age,
The cares of life, the madness, and the slow,
Iron-eating thoughts,
the bitter wars that wage,
The storm and stress and
woe of all who faint and rage.
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O happy! happy! hid from all that pains;—
For thee this earth is
ever one glad hour
Of loveliness, where Youth for ever reigns,
Where Beauty, for ever
waking from her bower,
Blossoms her azure hopes
in flood and sky and flower.
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Never to know the weariness of night,
The loneliness of eve
and all its woes,
The shrouding dark, the pallor, the fading light;
—
About thy realm a golden
glory glows,
Hedging for ever thy halls
with heaven’s rosy snows.
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