LIGHT-WINGED SMOKE

by: Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

      IGHT-WINGED Smoke, Icarian bird,
      Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight,
      Lark without song, and the messenger of dawn,
      Circling above the hamlets as thy nest;
      Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form
      Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;
      By night star-veiling, and by day
      Darkening the light and blotting out the sun;
      Go thou my incense upward from this hearth,
      And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.

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