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 In the East the clouds glow crimson with the new dawn that is breaking,
 * And its golden glory fills the western skies:—
 * Oh my brothers and my sisters, wake! arise!

For the new birth rends the old earth and the very dead are waking,
 * Ghosts are turned flesh, throwing off the grave's disguise,
 * And the foolish, even children, are made wise;

For the big earth groans in travail for the strong, new world in making—
 * Oh my brothers, dreaming for long centuries,
 * Wake from sleeping; to the East turn, turn your eyes!