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I heard the city bells at morning ring,
The eastern sky was faintly tinged with light;
The tired town in heavy sleep lay still,
And yet I knew it was no longer night.
One, two, three, four, the bells struck one by one,
In answering steeples that were far away;
Who could help wondering what the morn might bring,
Who waked, like me, between the dark and day?
This poem is in the public domain.
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Sarah Orne Jewett (1849 - 1909) was an American poet, short story writer, and novelist. Born and raised in a small fishing village in Maine, she was the daughter of a physician and the granddaughter of a sea captain. Given prominent social standing and ready access to books and higher culture her entire life, Sarah was more intrigued by the simple sights and sounds of life and people in her New England village. She began capturing those images in words when she was just a child. and published her first story while still a teenager.
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Darrell Arnold:
I have been waking and starting my days "between dark and day" for intermittent periods over 67years, ever since I was 12 years old, old enough to take over the milking of the family cow. It is often difficult to drag myself out of bed, and yet I cannot stay in bed without feeling profound guilt. "Daylight's burnin'," as John Wayne would say. And I'm always rewarded by the pleasures of that early time, when coyotes are howling and roosters are crowing and the great constellations are yet bright overhead. It's a special time, for sure.
Posted 01/18/2026 08:16 AM
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Larry Schug:
Something worth thinking about, for sure. The mark of a good poem.
Posted 01/18/2026 08:07 AM
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