The mists of morning When morning broke, Were as grey waters Or doves in a flock. No kine, slow moving , With breathings deep, Nor birds were stirring, Nor lamps, nor sheep. Grey as sea water, But through the grey What green light rising Has found its way? Like living flambeaux Of greenish light, The trees appearing So slim, so bright. Now from the grey mists, The trees emerge, Like green maids rising, From the ocean surge. They light green tapers By twos, by threes, Like slight maids walking Through the grey seas. In the mists of morning, Before the sun, They lit green tapers To the Holy One! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO BABY IN THE HOUSE by CLARA G. DOLLIVER ECHOES: 7 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE OWL AND THE PUSSY CAT by EDWARD LEAR FOR CHARLIE'S SAKE by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER THE CARPENTER by AMY BRUNER ALMY I HAVE LOVED by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS HYMN TO FIRE by KONSTANTIN DMITRIYEVICH BALMONT |