 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
MORNING.
Sadly, when the day was done,
To his setting waned the sun;
Heavily the shadows fell,
And the wind with fitful swell,
Echoed through the forest dim
Like a friar's ghostly hymn.
To his setting waned the sun;
Heavily the shadows fell,
And the wind with fitful swell,
Echoed through the forest dim
Like a friar's ghostly hymn.
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Mournful on the wall, afar,
Walked the evening sentry-star;
Burning clear, and cold, and lone,
Midnight's constellations shone;
While the hours, with solemn tread,
Passed like watchers by the dead.
Walked the evening sentry-star;
Burning clear, and cold, and lone,
Midnight's constellations shone;
While the hours, with solemn tread,
Passed like watchers by the dead.
Now at last the Morning wakes,
And the spell of darkness breaks,
On the mountains, dewy sweet,
Standing with her rosy feet,
While her golden fingers fair
Part the soft flow of her hair.
And the spell of darkness breaks,
On the mountains, dewy sweet,
Standing with her rosy feet,
While her golden fingers fair
Part the soft flow of her hair.
With the dew from flower and leaf
Flies the heavy dew of grief;
From the darkness of my thought,
Night her solemn aspect caught;
And the morning's joys begin,
As a morning breaks within.
Flies the heavy dew of grief;
From the darkness of my thought,
Night her solemn aspect caught;
And the morning's joys begin,
As a morning breaks within.
God's free sunshine on the hills,
Soft mists hanging o'er the rills,
Blushing flowers of loveliness
Trembling with the light wind's kiss,—
O, the soul forgets its care,
Looking on a world so fair!
Soft mists hanging o'er the rills,
Blushing flowers of loveliness
Trembling with the light wind's kiss,—
O, the soul forgets its care,
Looking on a world so fair!
Morning wooes me with her charms,
Like a lover's pleading arms;
Soft above me bend her skies,
As a lover's tender eyes;
And my heavy heart of pain,
Trembling, thrills with hope again.
Like a lover's pleading arms;
Soft above me bend her skies,
As a lover's tender eyes;
And my heavy heart of pain,
Trembling, thrills with hope again.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |