Poems (Jordan)/Morning—Evening

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MORNING—EVENING
I saw the Sun, like some gigantic smith, Plate all the hill-tops and the trees with gold;He tossed aside his coat of many colors with Such force, that, tumblingly, it rolled—and—rolled!
The flowers ran to pick it up; each one Secured a fragment for himself to wear,Until it should be needed by the weary Sun— But lo! He lifts a new one from the air!
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