Katharine Blake
the hour when daylight dies
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how dear to me the hour when daylight dies
and sunbeams melt along the silent sea
for then sweet dreams of other days arise
and memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee
and as i watch the line of light that plays
along the smooth way tow'rd the burning west
i long to tread that golden path of rays
and think t'would lead to some bright isle of rest
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