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  Mist on the mountain height
  Silvery creeping;
  Incarnate beads of light
  Bloom-cradled sleeping,
  Dripped from the brow of Night.


  Shadows, and winds that rise
  Over the mountain;
  Stars in the spar that lies
  Cold in the fountain,
  Pale as the quickened skies.


  Sheep in the wattled folds
  Dreamily bleating,
  Dim on the thistled wolds,
  Where, glad with meeting,
  Morn the thin Night enfolds.


  Sleep on the moaning sea
  Hushing his trouble;
  Rest on the cares that be
  Hued in Life's bubble,
  Calm on the woes of me....


  Mist from the mountain height
  Hurriedly fleeting;
  Star in the locks of Night
  Throbbing and beating,
  Thrilled with the coming light.


  Flocks on the musky strips;
  Pearl in the fountain;
  Winds from the forest's lips;
  Red on the mountain;
  Dawn from the Orient trips.

© Madison Julius Cawein