COMRADES, the morning breaks, the sun is up; Over her pearly shoulder the shy dawn Winds the soft floating mists of silver lawn; Comrades, the morning cup! the morning cup! With dew the tulip's cheek is dappled gray, And from the ground sweet smells of morning rise, The breeze blows softly out of Paradise; Drink to the morning of another day! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PROBLEM by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE USE OF FLOWERS by MARY HOWITT MY PICTURE LEFT IN SCOTLAND by BEN JONSON ON THE LIFE OF MAN by FRANCIS BEAUMONT NIGHTFALL by FLORENCE ASHLEY BELLER OLD THINGS by THOMAS T. BLEWETT |