Nugae Modernae Morning thoughts, and midnight musings: consisting of casual reflections, egotisms, &c. In prose and verse. By Thomas Park |
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DAY-BREAK. |
 | Nugae Modernae |  |
69
DAY-BREAK.
Dawn of day! thy twilight dress
A mantle seems of holiness,
Dropt by Him who fashion'd earth,
Ere the morning-stars had birth,
Ere the womb of shapeless night
Heav'd creation into light.
A mantle seems of holiness,
Dropt by Him who fashion'd earth,
Ere the morning-stars had birth,
Ere the womb of shapeless night
Heav'd creation into light.
Dawn of day! how pure to me
Is all thy fresh-born fragrancy
Of odours that from night-fall rise,
A yet untainted sacrifice
From God's footstool to his throne—
Oh, that I so could waft mine own!
Is all thy fresh-born fragrancy
Of odours that from night-fall rise,
A yet untainted sacrifice
From God's footstool to his throne—
Oh, that I so could waft mine own!
70
Dawn of day! how rapt thy hush
Of stillness, ere from brake or bush
Beast do rustle, bird take wing,
Or noise of any earthy thing
Break in upon that holy calm,
Which seems to breathe a heavenly charm.
Of stillness, ere from brake or bush
Beast do rustle, bird take wing,
Or noise of any earthy thing
Break in upon that holy calm,
Which seems to breathe a heavenly charm.
Sweet, ah sweetest dawn of day!
Like all that's sweet, how brief thy stay:
For now the sun, in beamy spread,
Tips eastern clouds with garish red,
And gathering sounds the ear steal on—
Dawn of day! thy charm is gone.
Like all that's sweet, how brief thy stay:
For now the sun, in beamy spread,
Tips eastern clouds with garish red,
And gathering sounds the ear steal on—
Dawn of day! thy charm is gone.
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