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A MORNING PIECE; WRITTEN IN ABSENCE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lucky and pretty light! Smiling on me
Last Line: To give me back those distant dead alive!
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund

LUCKY and pretty Light! smiling on me
All this blue rustling morning, may your grace
Call up my joy in every place
Which by your rays I see:
My joy! A starveling prayer and cold;
There shall be joy a millionfold.

Let your child-gleam visit each twinkling steep
Where still a Corydon loves his fine sheep,
Or, still, true labourer, grumbling
As he goes, rattling and rumbling,
The white mill shows the valley how to work,
Hurling his great arms round; but far away
The water-mill, as staunch a patriarch,
Has plunged afresh into the early day.
The bold stream thunders through the weir
And music fills the angler's ear.

Some last soft misty swathes, dear Hour, dispel
From lawns that lie beside a sleepier stream,
Till all the fragrant scheme
Of peaceful men who know their flowers as well
As bees do burns rich for the conquering bees.
Then over lattices
Of seagreen glass, and gables full of nests,
The proud eye rests
On the arrowy spire, now like a soaring flame,
As though, God's word being Light, it answered with the same.

My dream, I'll catch you yet; my Light,
Illude no more; light speaks with sight,
And dream Light surely alone discloses
Beside these spires and rills and roses
Melodies as if they grew
Clear as poplars on the view!
Dream? I am here and I am now,
But there and then bedew my brow;
The twofold air is jewelled with the singing
Of far-off youth, old Whitsun bells are ringing;
This sunbeam's pearl, this trilling breeze contrive
To give me back those distant dead alive!

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