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Crepuscule du Matin

All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the lie Which hope too long has whispered.

So I sought The sleep which would not come, and night was fraught With old emotions weeping silently.

I heard your voice again, and knew the things Which you had promised proved an empty vaunt.

I felt your clinging hands while night's broad wings Cherished our love in darkness.

From the lawn A sudden, quivering birdnote, like a taunt.

My arms held nothing but the empty dawn.

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Amy Lowell

Amy Lawrence Lowell (February 9, 1874 – May 12, 1925) was an American poet of the imagist school, which was promoting a return to classical valu…
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