Tis morning, ’tis morning…

The mist has left the greening plain, 
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain, 
The coquette rose awakes again 
Her lovely self adorning.

The Wind is hiding in the trees, 
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, 
Until the rose says “Kiss me, please,” 
‘Tis morning, ’tis morning. – Paul Laurence Dunbar

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