Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/Dawn

by Clarence Hawkes

DAWN

Slowly the waning stars above grow dim,
 Flicker and pale, like sparks that disappear;—
Far in the east, the cold horizon's rim
 Softens a shade as dawn of day draws near.

Then comes a flush, a soft, pale crimson streak,
 That warms and mellows as the young day grows
Until it burneth like a maiden's cheek,
 Or deeper like the crimson of the rose.

But higher still the day's avenging fire
Streams o'er the ramparts of the flying night,
Flooding the world with swift effulgent light,
 Waking a thousand songs from Nature's lyre;
And then the great sun rolls his golden car
 Up from the east and drives the night afar.