Poems (Jordan)/Daybreak
For works with similar titles, see Daybreak.
DAYBREAK
A shining shaft speeds from the bow
Drawn by the Sun's bright fingers;
In Night's dark breast 'tis buried low,
There, quivering, it lingers.
Then Night doth rise with kingly grace;
His flashing eyes glance 'round him,
But—sudden pallor spreads his face,
And—dying—Dawn hath found him!
Drawn by the Sun's bright fingers;
In Night's dark breast 'tis buried low,
There, quivering, it lingers.
Then Night doth rise with kingly grace;
His flashing eyes glance 'round him,
But—sudden pallor spreads his face,
And—dying—Dawn hath found him!
From out the wound, in sparkling streams,
Flows light of his life holden;
Morn, rudely wakened from her dreams,
With falling tresses, golden,
Hastes to her sire, her ruby lips
To his cold brow she presses;
His gray-grown locks her finger-tips—
Dyed in his blood—caresses!
Flows light of his life holden;
Morn, rudely wakened from her dreams,
With falling tresses, golden,
Hastes to her sire, her ruby lips
To his cold brow she presses;
His gray-grown locks her finger-tips—
Dyed in his blood—caresses!