Half-way unto the end-the week's high noon.
The morning hours do speed away so soon!
And, when the noon is reached, however bright,
Instinctively we look toward the night.
The glow is lost
Once the meridian cross'd.
Wednesday
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Poem topics: away, lost, night, bright, morning, speed, high, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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