Summer An Invocation to Sleep; Fairy Revels; and Songs and Sonnets. By Cornelius Webb |
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SONNET.
MORNING. |
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47
SONNET. MORNING.
The silver twilight star in heaven is set,Of all his light-eyed brethren lingering last;
The glad lark flutters his grey winglets, wet
And chill with mist and dew, and hurries fast,
Before his fellows stir, up to the dome
Which spanneth the green earth, now fresh and bright
As beauty newly waked; the bird of night,
Whom poets and sad lovers love, wings home,
Breaking abrupt her song with sudden-breaking day;
Roused by the tread of dewy-footed dawn,
Sleep, like a startled bee, flies fast away;
And now the sun's sweet bride, the sinless morn,
Comes blushing from his bed, amid the quiring
Of choral birds, and odorous flowers' respiring.
1817.
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