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[Page 46]

23
night, and there's little yet builded for the day.
Outer edges of such broad features as woods and even the skyline are uncertain and remote.
But there is a growing purity in the higher sky.
Shrouds of grey are taking the form of clouds with clear touches of light on their lofty edges.
The silver of night has failed and vanished of its dull gilt and now the sky is bleached blue, brighten-ing each minute.
Soon there is light enough to see the scarlet of poppies by the wayside
And soon, and rapidly, nights shadows have disappeared while yet the holy grey of dawn

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