O'er the hills the dawn is breaking; The joyous night has found an end; Rosy sunbeams, brightly streaking Flying shadows, sweetly blend. But let us hail her with a song For joy is short, and labor long. Hi! old Sol! Is that your head, Sir? I rather think you're up too soon— You're getting old, go back to bed, Sir; We'd sooner have your wife the moon. But let us hail him with a song, For joy is short, and labor long. Fill your glass, this is parting, Day has come, and we must go; Though the tear of grief be starting, We will meet again, you know. Then hail the morning with a song: We've had our fun—so come along. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST ON A VOLUME OF SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY by GEORGE SANTAYANA IF ONLY THOU ART TRUE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) HYMN, COMPOSED FOR THE CHILDREN OF A SUNDAY SCHOOL by BERNARD BARTON |