  I rose, ere yet the eager light Had wrested from the grasp of night The trembling spirit of the world. The dusk of dawn with wistful eyes Stole timidly across the skies, A little cloud its edges curled By passing winds sped soft and bright Towards some Eastern Paradise. No bird was yet awake to sing, And silence kissing everything Compelled my doubting soul to rest. While yet I slept a fall of snow Had whitened all the hills, and lo! Above the nearest summit's crest, A pendent star, as though to bring God's blessing to His Earth below, Shone like a thought benign, and kind, Within the vast Eternal Mind. |
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