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I'll tell you how the Sun rose-
A Ribbon at a time-
The Steeples swam in Amethyst-
The news, like Squirrels, ran-
The Hills untied their Bonnets-
The Bobolinks-begun-
Then I said softly to myself-
“That must have been the Sun”!
But how he set-I know not-
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while-
Till when they reached the other side,
A Dominie in Gray-
Put gently up the evening Bars-
And led the flock away-