Morning
To find the western path,
Right thro' the Gates of wrath
I urge my way;
Sweet Mercy leads me on
With soft repentant moan;
I see the break of day.
The war of swords and words
Melted by dewy tears,
Exhales on high;
The sun is freed from fears,
And with soft grateful tears
Ascends the sky.
All on a wet day !
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