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The warning night is spent
Like a dark-clad
Desert nomad
Folds a faded tent
Alabaster spines fan out
To shoo the misty cloak
And golden ray
Of infant day
The Mockingbirds evoke
Warm me now and melt the frost
That lingers in my core
The residue
Of stellar dew
Remains of night before
A million suns, like specks of dust,
Their "song of night" still sing
Now chased away
Make way! make way!
Behold the Golden King!
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