XXIIITHE NEW DAY
Silent has been the night, and O, so long!
With weary moon forever sailing west;
Save that a bird at midnight trilled a song,
A dream of daylight, from his moonlit nest.
With weary moon forever sailing west;
Save that a bird at midnight trilled a song,
A dream of daylight, from his moonlit nest.
The hills lay couched in slumber, range on range,
The earth was floating in a silver web,—
That mystery of calm before a change,
That lull of waters at the lowest ebb.
The earth was floating in a silver web,—
That mystery of calm before a change,
That lull of waters at the lowest ebb.
Some drowsy notes were all the bird could sing,
Soft as the scattered drops of summer dew;
Then, hushed within the quiet of his wing,
He sang no more; but now the dream comes true.
Soft as the scattered drops of summer dew;
Then, hushed within the quiet of his wing,
He sang no more; but now the dream comes true.
A thrill runs through the spaces of the night,
And flutters on the wavy eastern line;
Beyond the stars dilates a distant light,
The luminous outflow of a day divine.
And flutters on the wavy eastern line;
Beyond the stars dilates a distant light,
The luminous outflow of a day divine.
With slow approach it deepens into bloom,
Faint jasmine yellow, with a flush of rose;
And, brightening till it makes the stars a gloom,
O'er all the long uncertainty it flows.
Faint jasmine yellow, with a flush of rose;
And, brightening till it makes the stars a gloom,
O'er all the long uncertainty it flows.
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