HE said: "Awake my soul, and with the sun,". . . And paused upon the bridge, his eyes due east, Where was emerging like a full-robed priest The irradiate globe that vouched the dark as done. It lit his face -- the weary face of one Who in the adjacent gardens charged his string, Nightly, with many a tuneful tender thing, Till stars were weak, and dancing hours outrun. And then were threads of matin music spun In trial tones as he pursued his way: "This is a morn," he murmured, "well begun: This strain to Ken will count when I am clay!" And count it did; till, caught by echoing lyres, It spread to galleried naves and mighty quires. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DARWINISM by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON A DESCRIPTION OF SUCH A ONE AS HE WOULD LOVE by THOMAS WYATT BRAW LADS O' GALLA WATER by ROBERT BURNS FAR BUGLES by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN THE NOBLE PATRON by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON RIZPAH, DAUGHTER OF AIAH (WRITTEN FOR MUSIC) by FRANCIS HASTINGS CHARLES DOYLE |