University of Virginia Library


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XX. To the Spirits of Dawn.

Fires of the orient,
Heralds of golden dawn,
Over the mountain sent
Hill-slope and river-lawn!
How in my breast ye wake
Love-leap and sorrow-ache,
As from one instrument
Sweet sounds and sad are drawn.
Spirits of day that blow,
As upon breathing flutes,
Love-melodies that glow,
And on immortal lutes!
Faint are the waves with love,
The blue sky swims above,
Sweet passions ebb and flow
In herbs, and flowers, and fruits.

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Angels of morn that ope
Sun-gates of Paradise,
River-lawn mountain-slope
Gleam in your kindling eyes.
Fire-flocks of golden wings
Soar like a flame that springs,
Leap like a splendid hope
Up and up through the skies.
Warriors of light that urge
Chariots of flaming fire,
Over the dazzling verge
Nigher ye come and nigher,
Up the long clouds in streams
Rolling, like glorious dreams,
Like bright winds on the surge,
Higher ye sweep and higher!