LYING AWAKE

You, Morningtide Star, now are steady-eyed, over the east,

I know it as if I saw you;

You, Beeches, engrave on the sky your thin twigs, even the least;

Had I paper and pencil I'd draw you.

You, Meadow, are white with your counterpane cover of dew,

I see it as if I were there;

You, Churchyard, are lightening faint from the shade of the yew,

The names creeping out everywhere.

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