The mists of morning When morning broke, Were as grey waters Or doves in a flock. No kine, slow moving , With breathings deep, Nor birds were stirring, Nor lamps, nor sheep. Grey as sea water, But through the grey What green light rising Has found its way? Like living flambeaux Of greenish light, The trees appearing So slim, so bright. Now from the grey mists, The trees emerge, Like green maids rising, From the ocean surge. They light green tapers By twos, by threes, Like slight maids walking Through the grey seas. In the mists of morning, Before the sun, They lit green tapers To the Holy One! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOVEMBER BLUE by ALICE MEYNELL FACADE: 17. DARK SONG by EDITH SITWELL RED HANRAHAN'S SONG ABOUT IRELAND by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TRAILING ARBUTUS by HENRY ABBEY NUPTIAL ODE ON THE MARRIAGE OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |