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The Sunrise runs for Both
The East—Her Purple Troth
Keeps with the Hill
The Noon unwinds Her Blue
Till One Breadth cover Two
Remotest—still

Nor does the Night forget
A Lamp for Each—to set
Wicks wide away
The North—Her blazing Sign
Erects in Iodine
Till Both—can see

The Midnight's Dusky Arms
Clasp Hemispheres, and Homes
And so
Upon Her Bosom—One
And One upon Her Hem
Both lie