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To Morning     By William Blake     O holy virgin! clad in purest white,     Unlock heav'n's golden gates, and issue forth;     Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light     Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring     The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day.     O radiant morning, salute the sun     Rous'd like a huntsman to the chase, and with     Thy buskin'd feet appear upon our hills. Extra Info: Printable Page Add Your Thoughts on this poem. This page viewed 597 times.

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