WHEN the East lightens with strange hints of morn, The first tinge of the growing glory takes The cold crown of some husht high alp forlorn, While yet o'er vales below the dark is spread. Even so the dawning Age, in silence, breaks, O solitary soul, on thy still head: And we, that watch below with reverent fear, Seeing thee crowned, do know that day is near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SCARE-FIRE by ROBERT HERRICK DEAD IN THE SIERRAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER SONNET: 144 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 2. SHADOW MARCH by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON VENICE by JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS THE OLD MEN ADMIRING THEMSELVES IN THE WATER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |