Flower Pieces and other poems By William Allingham: With two designs by Dante Gabriel Rossetti |
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BY THE MORNING SEA. |
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 | Flower Pieces and other poems |  |
47
BY THE MORNING SEA.
The wind shakes up the sleepy clouds
To kiss the ruddied Morn,
And from their awful misty shrouds
The Mountains are new-born:
The Sea lies fresh with open eyes;
Night-fears and moaning dreams
Brooding like clouds on nether skies,
Have sunk below, and beams
Dance on the floor like golden flies,
Or strike with joyful gleams
Some white-wing'd ship, a wandering star
Of Ocean, piloting afar.
To kiss the ruddied Morn,
And from their awful misty shrouds
The Mountains are new-born:
The Sea lies fresh with open eyes;
Night-fears and moaning dreams
Brooding like clouds on nether skies,
Have sunk below, and beams
Dance on the floor like golden flies,
Or strike with joyful gleams
Some white-wing'd ship, a wandering star
Of Ocean, piloting afar.
In brakes, in woods, in cottage eaves,
The early birds are rife,
Quick voices thrill the sprinkled leaves
In ecstasy of life;
With silent gratitude of flow'rs
The morning's breath is sweet,
And cool with dew, that freshly show'rs
Round wild things' hasty feet;
But heavenly guests of tranquil hours
To inner skies retreat,
From human thoughts of lower birth
That stir upon the waking earth.
The early birds are rife,
Quick voices thrill the sprinkled leaves
In ecstasy of life;
With silent gratitude of flow'rs
The morning's breath is sweet,
And cool with dew, that freshly show'rs
Round wild things' hasty feet;
But heavenly guests of tranquil hours
To inner skies retreat,
From human thoughts of lower birth
That stir upon the waking earth.
48
Across a thousand leagues of land
The mighty Sun looks free,
And in their fringe of rock and sand
A thousand leagues of sea.
Lo! I, in this majestic room,
Real as the mighty Sun,
Inherit this day and its doom
Eternally begun.
A world of men the rays illume,
God's men, and I am one.
But life that is not pure and bold
Doth tarnish every morning's gold.
The mighty Sun looks free,
And in their fringe of rock and sand
A thousand leagues of sea.
Lo! I, in this majestic room,
Real as the mighty Sun,
Inherit this day and its doom
Eternally begun.
A world of men the rays illume,
God's men, and I am one.
But life that is not pure and bold
Doth tarnish every morning's gold.
| Flower Pieces and other poems | |