SUNRISE OVER THE CITY.
With restless searching are the nightwinds spent,A solitary bird pipes lovenotes lorn,Portent of life new wakening with the morn;Long lines of flaring lamps still burn their stent,With gloom upon the city’s bosom blent;But ’bove the dark threat of a cloud low drawn,White as a wraith, pale glows God’s holy dawn,The morning star her brightest ornament.As gathering splendor floods the world with light,The whilom watcher sleeps, forgetting grief;And though ’neath fuming smoke, ’mid roll of wheels,The sordid city wakes her giant mightLustful of gain, her deepest heart yet feelsThe benediction of that vision brief.William James Baker.
With restless searching are the nightwinds spent,A solitary bird pipes lovenotes lorn,Portent of life new wakening with the morn;Long lines of flaring lamps still burn their stent,With gloom upon the city’s bosom blent;But ’bove the dark threat of a cloud low drawn,White as a wraith, pale glows God’s holy dawn,The morning star her brightest ornament.As gathering splendor floods the world with light,The whilom watcher sleeps, forgetting grief;And though ’neath fuming smoke, ’mid roll of wheels,The sordid city wakes her giant mightLustful of gain, her deepest heart yet feelsThe benediction of that vision brief.William James Baker.
With restless searching are the nightwinds spent,A solitary bird pipes lovenotes lorn,Portent of life new wakening with the morn;Long lines of flaring lamps still burn their stent,With gloom upon the city’s bosom blent;But ’bove the dark threat of a cloud low drawn,White as a wraith, pale glows God’s holy dawn,The morning star her brightest ornament.As gathering splendor floods the world with light,The whilom watcher sleeps, forgetting grief;And though ’neath fuming smoke, ’mid roll of wheels,The sordid city wakes her giant mightLustful of gain, her deepest heart yet feelsThe benediction of that vision brief.
With restless searching are the nightwinds spent,
A solitary bird pipes lovenotes lorn,
Portent of life new wakening with the morn;
Long lines of flaring lamps still burn their stent,
With gloom upon the city’s bosom blent;
But ’bove the dark threat of a cloud low drawn,
White as a wraith, pale glows God’s holy dawn,
The morning star her brightest ornament.
As gathering splendor floods the world with light,
The whilom watcher sleeps, forgetting grief;
And though ’neath fuming smoke, ’mid roll of wheels,
The sordid city wakes her giant might
Lustful of gain, her deepest heart yet feels
The benediction of that vision brief.
William James Baker.
William James Baker.