  At dawn of day a shaft of light Pierces the sable breast of night, Which, dropping many a sable plume, Flits far into the nether gloom, All silently. At dawn of day the sun’s first beam Dispels the mist that hides the stream, And scatters from the hill and wood The clouds that there did sit and brood, Formless and grey. And when the night from earth is driven, And clouds and mist have fled from heaven, The waking birds take eager flight Up through the golden rain of light, With happy song. Into my life, that knew no day, A maiden winged a kindly ray, And, flying wearily and slow, Far fled the sombre bird of woe I harbored long. My heart no longer pined in night, The mists that hid hope’s stream took flight, Life’s hills a sunnier aspect took, And I found many a pleasant nook Within life’s grove. And now my thoughts, like birds, arise, Singing, towards the golden skies, Afar from earthly doubt and strife, Through the pure radiance of her life, On wings of love. |
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