 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
THE MORNING.
Break, morning, break, I weary of the night,
Longing to see and know the truth of things,
To gather faith up, as the bird her wings,
And soar into the kingdom, where is light.
Longing to see and know the truth of things,
To gather faith up, as the bird her wings,
And soar into the kingdom, where is light.
Arise, oh Sun! for while the midnight lay
Along the path we traveled—dense, profound,
The hands and feet of my sweet mate were bound,
And he is prisoned till the break of day.
Along the path we traveled—dense, profound,
The hands and feet of my sweet mate were bound,
And he is prisoned till the break of day.
Shadows, wild shadows, from the air be gone—
Where shaken boughs of golden lilies stood,
Came up a black impenetrable wood,
When love was lost—I cannot journey on.
Where shaken boughs of golden lilies stood,
Came up a black impenetrable wood,
When love was lost—I cannot journey on.
By the King's palace low my knees I bow,
On the dark porch beside the palace white
Waiting the morn which shall husk out the light
From the thick shell of darkness round me now.
On the dark porch beside the palace white
Waiting the morn which shall husk out the light
From the thick shell of darkness round me now.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |