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A Fragment

Awake! arise! the hour is late!

Angels are knocking at thy door!

They are in haste and cannot wait,

And once departed come no more.

 

Awake! arise! the athlete’s arm

Loses its strength by too much rest;

The fallow land, the untilled farm

Produces only weeds at best.

Written by
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
1807-1882 / Male / American
Lines·Words
8·48
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