Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
When Jeremy waked, so customed; for his sleep
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound
Of The One AM Radio, Aurora's fan,
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song
Of Bowerbirds; so much the more
His wonder was to find unwakened Hayley
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: He, on his side
Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when the girl from Rainer Maria breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. For
A pessimist, I'm pretty optimistic!
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