 | The Creed of My Heart and Other Poems |  |
25
MORNING TWILIGHT
Motionless mists around the mountains cling,Veiling their splintered summits from our eyes:
Though night is dead the sun delays to rise,
And all is cold and grey: no living thing
Moves on the earth; no bird is on the wing:—
Calmer than death the lake far-winding lies,
While slumber in its depths the cloud-thronged skies,
And trancëd hills that from its margin spring.
O wondrous hour, thy stillness is the womb
Of puissant passions and imperial powers
That yet shall wake to life. The silent earth
Waits, grandly patient, for a glorious birth:
And, burning through the coldness and the gloom,
A dawn divinely bright shall yet be ours.
| The Creed of My Heart and Other Poems | |