MORN in the East! How coldly fair It breaks upon my fever'd eye! How chides the calm and dewy air! How chides the pure and pearly sky! The stars melt in a brighter fire -- The dew, in sunshine, leaves the flowers -- They, from their watch, in light retire, While we, in sadness, pass from ours. I turn from the rebuking morn, -- The cold gray sky, and fading star, -- And listen to the harp and horn, And see the waltzers near and far -- The lamps and flowers are bright as yet, And lips beneath more bright than they, -- How can a scene so fair beget The mournful thoughts we bear away! 'Tis something that thou art not here, Sweet lover of my lightest word! 'Tis something that my mother's tear By these forgetful hours is stirr'd! But I have long a loiterer been In haunts where Joy is said to be, And though with Peace I enter in, @3The nymph comes never forth with me!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAKING OF MAN by JOHN WHITE CHADWICK GOD by GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN THE IRISH SPINNING-WHEEL by ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES THE CONVERGENCE OF THE TWAIN; LINES ON LOSS OF THE TITANIC by THOMAS HARDY STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by REGINALD HEBER AT THE CARNIVAL by ANNE SPENCER SONGS OF LABOR: DEDICATION by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |