THROW up the window! 'Tis a morn for life In its most subtle luxury. The air Is like a breathing from a rarer world; And the south wind is like a gentle friend, Parting the hair so softly on my brow. It has come over gardens, and the flowers That kiss'd it are betray'd; for as it parts, With its invisible fingers, my loose hair, I know it has been trifling with the rose, And stooping to the violet. There is joy For all God's creatures in it. The wet leaves Are stirring at its touch, and birds are singing As if to breathe were music, and the grass Sends up its modest odor with the dew, Like the small tribute of humility. I had awoke from an unpleasant dream, And light was welcome to me. I look'd out To feel the common air, and when the breath Of the delicious morning met my brow, Cooling its fever, and the pleasant sun Shone on familiar objects, it was like The feeling of the captive who comes forth From darkness to the cheerful light of day. Oh! could we wake from sorrow; were it all A troubled dream like this, to cast aside Like an untimely garment with the morn; Could the long fever of the heart be cool'd By a sweet breath from nature; or the gloom Of a bereaved affection pass away With looking on the lively tint of flowers -- How lightly were the spirit reconciled To make this beautiful, bright world its home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROSY BOSOM'D HOURS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE HESPERUS THE BRINGER by SAPPHO THE CHILD IN THE GARDEN by HENRY VAN DYKE TO BARON DE STONNE WITH AIKIN'S ESSAYS ON SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: COUNT RINALDO RINALDI by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE AULD FARMER'S NEW YEAR MORNING SALUTATION ... AULD MARE by ROBERT BURNS |