A Song Of The Sunrise
The night breaks. The light shakes
Down from the sky.
The darkness trembles: shivers, dissembles:
Unwilling to die.
And facile and fleet, on dusky feet,
Out of the dripping sunlight tripping,
Shadows pass by,
All sprinkled and spattered
With golden rain,
All shivered, all shattered, like dream-ghosts scattered
By the waking brain.
The light dawns. The night mourns
And the stars shiver,
The moon pales. The loon wails
Far down the river.
And strong in the might of perfect delight,
Fearless and bold with its wealth of gold,
Stronger than sadness,
Brighter than gladness,
Mad with the madness
Of victory won—
Above night’s gloom, above life’s bloom,
Higher and higher, like a passioned desire,
To the highest height of earth’s blinded sight
Rises the sun,
And the battle is done.
Yet afar, unforgetting,
Hid by the hill,
Night awaits the day’s setting,
Revengeful and still.