At morn in wait he yonder stood,
Since then twas sun in morning drew.

Long must in walk he better knew,
For not the night to day succumb.

By day that cold less it drew,
Still at berth it roused him more.

Nor not his work that sees the dust,
But better thought if not be made.

For eve; time has ally none,
Sunk the sun down and away.

Ere the moon that marches forth,
Is not what darkness can invite.

Whence in view as he in view,
Lays in bed whilst morn grew.

The sun commands another day,
It bade nor once never deceived.

Category:
Nature, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
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