The sun is but a morning star.
-Henry David Thoreau
Days of the Sun
I saw the Sun at midnight, rising red,
Deep-hued yet glowing, heavy with the stain
Of blood-compassion, and I saw It gain
Swiftly in size and growing till It spread
Over the stars; the heavens bowed their head
As from Its heart slow dripped a crimson rain,
Then a great tremor shook It, as of pain--
The night fell, moaning, as It hung there dead.
-Joseph Mary Plunkett
Deep-hued yet glowing, heavy with the stain
Of blood-compassion, and I saw It gain
Swiftly in size and growing till It spread
Over the stars; the heavens bowed their head
As from Its heart slow dripped a crimson rain,
Then a great tremor shook It, as of pain--
The night fell, moaning, as It hung there dead.
-Joseph Mary Plunkett
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