Where dawn breaks,
With lambent flakes,
On leafy arcades
And day trundles on,
With every object forlorn,
Whether flowers or a thorn,
Bathed in resplendent morn!
I devour the fresh mountain air,
Savouring this idyllic bucolic affair,
Fuchsia skies with golden flair,
Like Ferris-wheel lit-up in air,
Trinkets of Nature’s morning fair
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