WHEN the East lightens with strange hints of morn, The first tinge of the growing glory takes The cold crown of some husht high alp forlorn, While yet o'er vales below the dark is spread. Even so the dawning Age, in silence, breaks, O solitary soul, on thy still head: And we, that watch below with reverent fear, Seeing thee crowned, do know that day is near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EARTH'S IMMORTALITIES: LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING LOVE AND A QUESTION by ROBERT FROST SONNET by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A DREAM OF GOOD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WRITTEN IN ASPIN CAVE by EMILY JANE BRONTE |