 | Benoni |  |
103
EOS.
Ken'st thou how the elder ages
Loved the fresh poetic Morn,
Learnt from priests and poet-sages
How divinely she is born?
Loved the fresh poetic Morn,
Learnt from priests and poet-sages
How divinely she is born?
Still to us the ancient warning
Speaks, as once it spoke to them—
“Let the forehead of the Morning
Wear thy spirit's grandest gem.”
Speaks, as once it spoke to them—
“Let the forehead of the Morning
Wear thy spirit's grandest gem.”
Meetest brow is hers to glisten
Jewell'd with the mind's clear prime;
Meetest ear is hers to listen
Unto Thought's deep manly chime.
Jewell'd with the mind's clear prime;
Meetest ear is hers to listen
Unto Thought's deep manly chime.
Noon?—Not softest breeze and tender
Lives beneath her royal sway;
In her lucid dazzling splendour
Dies thy jewel's fainter ray.
Lives beneath her royal sway;
In her lucid dazzling splendour
Dies thy jewel's fainter ray.
104
Eve?—Thy warblings may not greet her;
She must sing, and only she:
Let no gem, but something sweeter
On her brow thy signet be.
She must sing, and only she:
Let no gem, but something sweeter
On her brow thy signet be.
Night?—The bulbul's voice around her
Threads the silence all alone:
She with beaded worlds hath crown'd her—
Shut thy tiny casket down!
Threads the silence all alone:
She with beaded worlds hath crown'd her—
Shut thy tiny casket down!
But the Morn, tho' brighter, bluer
Be her sister-hours, for thee
Loving studious calm, a truer
Partner of thy thoughts shall be:
Be her sister-hours, for thee
Loving studious calm, a truer
Partner of thy thoughts shall be:
She, ungirt with stars, or zoned
Sunset, or the noonday sheen,
Well shall wear thy jewel, throned
On her moist pale brow serene:
Sunset, or the noonday sheen,
Well shall wear thy jewel, throned
On her moist pale brow serene:
She, with no rude voice to grieve her,
Blends thy spirit's nobler lays
With the songs that never leave her—
With the lavrock's voice of praise.
Blends thy spirit's nobler lays
With the songs that never leave her—
With the lavrock's voice of praise.
105
Therefore thou art wise, in choosing
Morn thy bloom of thought to prove;
Noon for rest, and Eve for musing,
And the Night of stars for love.
Morn thy bloom of thought to prove;
Noon for rest, and Eve for musing,
And the Night of stars for love.
| Benoni | |