There are some mornings will not let me sleep: Not dawns that drench the day in liquid gold, That dazzle eyes and hearts, as they unfold; Nor days that stain the east with Titian dyes When bird throats almost burst with joyous cries. Mornings like these mock my fragility; They are too vibrant with earth's tyranny. But dawns that blend with silver, delicate As misted veils across an open gate, Through which I almost see that crystal day When I may fully wake, and learn to weigh All truth with songs on lips -- though Earth be mute -- And eyes which flesh, no longer, may pollute. These are the dawns that will not let me sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE MY BOOKS GO by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A MEDITATION ON RHODE ISLAND COAL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT MY LITTLE DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WIDOW'S MITE by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON THE SONNET by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE BOY AND THE BROOK by LEO ALISHAN THE OLD FLUTE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER |