Sonnet Xxxiii.
full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to...
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I Saw two clouds at morning,
Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on,
And mingled into one;
I thought that morning cloud was blest,
It moved so sweetly to the west.I saw two summer currents
Flow smoothly to their meeting,
And join their course, with silent force,
In peace each other greeting;... -
What if some morning, when the stars were paling,
And the dawn whitened, and the east was clear,
Strange peace and rest fell on me from the presence
Of a benignant spirit standing near;And I should tell him, as he stood beside me:—
“This is our earth—most friendly earth, and fair;
Daily its sea and shore through sun and shadow
... -
We wreathed about our darling’s head
The morning-glory bright;
Her little face looked out beneath
So full of life and light,
So lit as with a sunrise,
That we could only say,
“She is the morning-glory true,
And her poor types are they.”So always from that happy time
We called her by their name,
And... -
This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of heaven’s eternal king,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring—
For so the holy sages once did sing—
That He our deadly forfeit should release,
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.That glorious form, that light...
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From the near city comes the clang of bells:
Their hundred jarring diverse tones combine
In one faint misty harmony, as fine
As the soft note yon winter robin swells.
What if to Thee in thine infinity
These multiform and many-colored creeds
Seem but the robe man wraps as masquers’ weeds
Round the one living truth them givest him—Thee?... -
With silent awe I hail the sacred morn,
That slowly wakes while all the fields are still!
A soothing calm on every breeze is borne;
A graver murmur gurgles from the rill;
And echo answers softer from the hill;
And sweeter sings the linnet from the thorn:
The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill.
Hail, light serene! hail, sacred Sabbath... -
Up! quit thy bower! late wears the hour,
Long have the rooks cawed round the tower;
O’er flower and tree loud hums the bee,
And the wild kid sports merrily.
The sun is bright, the sky is clear;
Wake, lady, wake! and hasten here.Up, maiden fair! and bind thy hair,
And rouse thee in the breezy air!
The lulling stream that soothed... -
In the barn the tenant cock,
Close to partlet perched on high,
Briskly crows (the shepherd’s clock!)
Jocund that the morning’s nigh.Swiftly from the mountain’s brow,
Shadows, nursed by night, retire:
And the peeping sunbeam now
Paints with gold the village spire.Philomel forsakes the thorn,
Plaintive where... -
From “The Minstrel”
BUT who the melodies of morn can tell?
The wild brook babbling down the mountainside;
The lowing herd; the sheepfold’s simple bell;
The pipe of early shepherd dim descried
In the lone valley; echoing far and wide
The clamorous horn along the cliffs above;
The hollow murmur of the ocean-tide;
The...