Poems (Pizey)/Lines written at Sun-rise
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LINESWRITTEN AT SUN-RISE.
Now o'er the slumbering world the daylight breaks,
And morn again leads on the brighter day,
And now the glorious sun in golden streaks
Paints the blue vault of the ethereal sky.
And morn again leads on the brighter day,
And now the glorious sun in golden streaks
Paints the blue vault of the ethereal sky.
Now from th' horizon's boundaries he comes,
Gathering fresh lustre as he mounts on high,
And now, how bright and fair creation blooms,
Deck'd with the brilliant diamonds of the sky!
Gathering fresh lustre as he mounts on high,
And now, how bright and fair creation blooms,
Deck'd with the brilliant diamonds of the sky!
What are the fancied pleasures of the great
Compared to this enchanting lovely scene!
What is the lustred room, where hundreds meet,
Compar'd to this? how trifling, low, and mean!
Compared to this enchanting lovely scene!
What is the lustred room, where hundreds meet,
Compar'd to this? how trifling, low, and mean!
Can the resplendent diamond that excel
Which now this lovely simple flowret wears?
Or can the snowy whiteness of the pearl
Surpass that lily wet with Nature's tears?
Which now this lovely simple flowret wears?
Or can the snowy whiteness of the pearl
Surpass that lily wet with Nature's tears?
Or can the colours of the painted loom
Appear more rich or pleasing to the eye,
Than this sweet Rose now opening into bloom,
Than that gay tulip's brightly glowing dye?
Appear more rich or pleasing to the eye,
Than this sweet Rose now opening into bloom,
Than that gay tulip's brightly glowing dye?
Where's the extracted essence that excels
The fragrant balmy breath of early day,
When every flower and shrub far sweeter smells
Scenting the zephyrs that around them play?
The fragrant balmy breath of early day,
When every flower and shrub far sweeter smells
Scenting the zephyrs that around them play?
Ah! little think the trifling thoughtless gay,
How many real joys they idly lose,
How many true enjoyments throw away,
Forgetful of the bounty they abuse.
How many real joys they idly lose,
How many true enjoyments throw away,
Forgetful of the bounty they abuse.
This hour to me affords more real joy
Than noisy mirth or riot e'er can know.
I would not change one thought I now enjoy
For all the senseless pleasures they bestow.
Than noisy mirth or riot e'er can know.
I would not change one thought I now enjoy
For all the senseless pleasures they bestow.