WITH silent awe I hail the sacred morn, That slowly wakes while all the fields are still! Soothing calm on every breeze is borne; A graver murmur gurgles from the rill; And echo answers softer from the hill; And sweeter sings the linnet from the thorn: The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. Hail, light serene! hail, sacred Sabbath morn! The rooks float silent by in airy drove; The sun a placid yellow lustre throws; The gales that lately sighed along the grove Have hushed their downy wings in dead repose The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move, -- So smiled that day when the first morn arose! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 4. REVEILLE by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN IO VICTIS by WILLIAM WETMORE STORY SCURVY ENTERTAINMENT by ABU ABD ALLAH ANACREON by ANTIPATER OF SIDON MOONLIGHT by SERENA COBIA BAILEY LONG CHERISHED GRIEF by MIRIAM BARRANGER PORTRAIT SONNETS: 3 by HENRY BELLAMANN NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 6 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 22 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |