THE COMING OF THE MORN
SEE how the Morn awakes. Along the skyProceeds she with her pale, increasing light,And, from the depths of the dim canopy,Drives out the shadows of departing night.Lo, the clouds break, and gradually more wideMorn openeth her bright, rejoicing gates;And ever, as the orient valves divide,A costlier aspect on their breadth awaits.Lo, the clouds break, and in each opened schismThe coming Phœbus lays huge beams of gold,And roseate fire and glories that the prismWould vainly strive before us to unfold;And, while I gaze, from out the bright abysmA flaming disc is to the horizon rolled.
SEE how the Morn awakes. Along the skyProceeds she with her pale, increasing light,And, from the depths of the dim canopy,Drives out the shadows of departing night.Lo, the clouds break, and gradually more wideMorn openeth her bright, rejoicing gates;And ever, as the orient valves divide,A costlier aspect on their breadth awaits.Lo, the clouds break, and in each opened schismThe coming Phœbus lays huge beams of gold,And roseate fire and glories that the prismWould vainly strive before us to unfold;And, while I gaze, from out the bright abysmA flaming disc is to the horizon rolled.
SEE how the Morn awakes. Along the skyProceeds she with her pale, increasing light,And, from the depths of the dim canopy,Drives out the shadows of departing night.Lo, the clouds break, and gradually more wideMorn openeth her bright, rejoicing gates;And ever, as the orient valves divide,A costlier aspect on their breadth awaits.
SEE how the Morn awakes. Along the sky
Proceeds she with her pale, increasing light,
And, from the depths of the dim canopy,
Drives out the shadows of departing night.
Lo, the clouds break, and gradually more wide
Morn openeth her bright, rejoicing gates;
And ever, as the orient valves divide,
A costlier aspect on their breadth awaits.
Lo, the clouds break, and in each opened schismThe coming Phœbus lays huge beams of gold,And roseate fire and glories that the prismWould vainly strive before us to unfold;And, while I gaze, from out the bright abysmA flaming disc is to the horizon rolled.
Lo, the clouds break, and in each opened schism
The coming Phœbus lays huge beams of gold,
And roseate fire and glories that the prism
Would vainly strive before us to unfold;
And, while I gaze, from out the bright abysm
A flaming disc is to the horizon rolled.