Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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 | Sonnets |  |
99
SONNET.
[The Morn doth build all the air into one throne]
The Morn doth build all the air into one throne,Ruddy and golden—glorious and divine!—
A throne of triumph and a splendid shrine,
As though of diamond and of fire it shone!
The Morn now comes with all her charms full-blown,
Her pomps and powers that proudly matchless shine,
A Dream of Roses!—Vision pure and fine,
And all her bright enchantments are our own!—
Morning!—the Vestal Mother of the Sun
Seem'st thou to be, since from thy bosom born,
(Thou that first glimpsest—like a white-stoled nun!—)
He springeth forth—Oh! thou triumphal Morn!—
His race of glory and of joy to run;
Thus seems thy Sire—thy Child—of strength unshorn!
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