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A collection of poetry by Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevenson.

Page 217 of 454
Table of Contents

The Morning Drum-Call on My Eager Ear

The morning drum-call on my eager ear Thrills unforgotten yet; the morning dew Lies yet undried along my field of noon. But now I pause at whiles in what I do, And count the bell, and tremble lest I hear (My work untrimmed) the sunset gun too soon.

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