Teresa and Other Poems By James Rhoades |
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DAWN
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 | Teresa and Other Poems |  |
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XI
DAWN
At every tick of time—when eve is grey,
When skies are scorched with noon, or blurred with night,
Somewhere, on opening wings of early light,
The young Dawn breaketh; without haste or stay
Moves the bright Wizard on his lustral way,
To wind-blown seas, or cities glimmering white,
Hamlet and homestead, or bleak mountain-height,
Or misty vale, each moment bringing day.
O midnight watcher, woe-distraught, and sick
Of the blind heaven, whose very hopes do lour
Like clouds upon thee palpable and thick—
Thyself thy sole horizon!—in that hour
Be such sweet thought thy pillow: 'twill have power
To cleanse and calm, and make thee catholic.
| Teresa and Other Poems | |