Poems by Robert Nicoll Second edition: with numerous additions, and a memoir of the author |
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THE MORNING STAR. |
 | Poems by Robert Nicoll |  |
THE MORNING STAR.
Thy smile of beauty, Star!
Brings gladness on the gloomy face of night—
Thou comest from afar,
Pale Mystery! so lonely and so bright,
A thing of dreams—a vision from on high—
A virgin spirit—light—a type of purity!
Brings gladness on the gloomy face of night—
Thou comest from afar,
Pale Mystery! so lonely and so bright,
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A virgin spirit—light—a type of purity!
Star! nightly wanderest thou
Companionless along thy far, cold way:—
From Time's first breath till now,
On thou hast flitted like an ether-fay!
Where is the land from whence thou first arose;
And where the place of light to which thy pathway goes?
Companionless along thy far, cold way:—
From Time's first breath till now,
On thou hast flitted like an ether-fay!
Where is the land from whence thou first arose;
And where the place of light to which thy pathway goes?
Pale Dawn's first messenger!
Thou prophet-sign of brightness yet to be!
Thou tellest Earth and Air
Of Light and Glory following after thee;
Of smiling Day 'mong wild, green woodlands sleeping;
And God's own sun, o'er all, its tears of brightness weeping!
Thou prophet-sign of brightness yet to be!
Thou tellest Earth and Air
Of Light and Glory following after thee;
Of smiling Day 'mong wild, green woodlands sleeping;
And God's own sun, o'er all, its tears of brightness weeping!
Sky sentinel! when first
The Nomade Patriarch saw thee from his hill
Upon his vision burst,
Thou wast as pure and fair as thou art still;
And changeless thou hast looked on race, and name,
And nation, lost since then—but Thou art yet the same!
The Nomade Patriarch saw thee from his hill
Upon his vision burst,
Thou wast as pure and fair as thou art still;
And changeless thou hast looked on race, and name,
And nation, lost since then—but Thou art yet the same!
Night's youngest child! fair gem!
The hoar astrologer o'er thee would cast
His glance, and to thy name
His own would join; then tremble when thou wast
In darkness; and rejoice when, like a bride,
Thou blush'd to Earth—and thus the dreamer dreamed and died!
The hoar astrologer o'er thee would cast
His glance, and to thy name
His own would join; then tremble when thou wast
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Thou blush'd to Earth—and thus the dreamer dreamed and died!
Pure Star of Morning Love!
The daisy of the sky's blue plain art thou;
And thoughts of youth are wove
Round thee, as round the flowers that freshly blow
In bushy dells, where thrush and blackbird sing—
Flower-Star, the dreams of youth and heaven thou back dost bring!
The daisy of the sky's blue plain art thou;
And thoughts of youth are wove
Round thee, as round the flowers that freshly blow
In bushy dells, where thrush and blackbird sing—
Flower-Star, the dreams of youth and heaven thou back dost bring!
Star of the Morn! for thee
The watcher by affection's couch doth wait;
'Tis thine the bliss to see
Of lovers fond who 'mid the broom have met;
Into the student's home thine eye doth beam;
Thou listenest to the words of many a troubled dream!
The watcher by affection's couch doth wait;
'Tis thine the bliss to see
Of lovers fond who 'mid the broom have met;
Into the student's home thine eye doth beam;
Thou listenest to the words of many a troubled dream!
Lone thing!—yet not more lone
Than many a heart which gazeth upon thee,
With hopes all fled and gone—
Which loves not now, nor seeks beloved to be.
Lone, lone thou art—but we are lonelier far,
When blighted by deceit the heart's affections are!
Than many a heart which gazeth upon thee,
With hopes all fled and gone—
Which loves not now, nor seeks beloved to be.
Lone, lone thou art—but we are lonelier far,
When blighted by deceit the heart's affections are!
Mysterious Morning Star!
Bright dweller in a gorgeous dreamy home,
Than others nobler far—
Thou art like some free soul, which here hath come
Alone, but glorious, pure, and disenthrall'd—
A spark of Mind, which God through earth to heaven hath call'd!
Bright dweller in a gorgeous dreamy home,
Than others nobler far—
Thou art like some free soul, which here hath come
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A spark of Mind, which God through earth to heaven hath call'd!
Pure Maiden Star! shine on,
That dreams of beauty may be dream'd of thee!
A home art thou—a throne—
A land where fancy ever roameth free—
A God-sent messenger—a light afar—
A blessed beam—a smile—a gem—the Morning Star!
That dreams of beauty may be dream'd of thee!
A home art thou—a throne—
A land where fancy ever roameth free—
A God-sent messenger—a light afar—
A blessed beam—a smile—a gem—the Morning Star!
| Poems by Robert Nicoll | |