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.
Amy Lowell
 
                             
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