Promise

Through the moil and the gloom they have issued To the steps of the upwinding hill,

Where the sweet, dulcet pipes of tomorrow In their preluding rhapsodies trill.

With a thud comes a stir in the bosom, As there steals on the sight from afar,

Through a break of a cloud's coiling shadow The gleam of a bright morning star!

Georgia Douglas Johnson

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Through the moil and the gloom they have
To the steps of the hill,
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