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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


TO A LADY, ON THE RISE OF MORN by ANNE BATTEN CRISTALL

First Line: RISE, BLOSSOM OF THE SPRING
Last Line: SINGING THE HEAVENLY SONG OF LIBERTY!
Subject(s): MORNING;

RISE, blossom of the spring,
The dews of morn
Still linger on the barren thorn;
Arise, and sing!


O! join my rapturous song!
And o'er the wild bleak hills
And unfledged fields along
Pursue the trickling rills:
O, rise!
Cloathed with that modest grace
That veils the glowing beauties of thy face,
And downward points the radiance of thine eyes.
I wait thee on the thawing mountains,
Where spring dissolves the lingering fountains;
O! trace with me the opening flowers;
Brave the sharp breeze, damp dews, and vernal showers.
Wild various Nature strews her charms,
And storms surround her mildest calms;
O! to her frowns let us superior be,
Taste each delight, and hail the coming spring,
Singing the heavenly song of liberty!



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