Maurice Thompson


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She stood between two gold pillars;
Behind her lay a misty field,
And sunlight smote with great splendor
Athwart her silver shield.

From her high place she shot an arrow
That broke the slumber of the sea;
And one she shot upon a mountain,
And one flew full at me.

Then the sea began singing, and uplifted
Its face made glorious for a kiss;
And the mountain on its green summit
Built fires of sacrifice.

Then her little feet, gold-sandaled,
Stepped down the current of a breeze,
And stood upon a river flowing
Broad like the Euphrates.

And the hills cried, "It is Eos!"
And the skylark soared away;
And the little fire in the east enkindled,
Flamed into perfect day!

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Maurice Thompson