. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . THE cloud was thick that hid the sun from sightAnd over all a shadowy roof outspread,Making the day dim with another night—Not dark like that which passed, but oh! more dreadFor the clear sunlight that had gone beforeAnd prophecy of that which yet should snow at night the wind-blown hills of sandShone with an inward light far down the land:Beneath the lowering sky black was the seaAcross whose waves a bird came flying low —Borne swift on the wind with wing-beat halt and slow—?From out the dull east toward the foamy was an awful w
. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . THE cloud was thick that hid the sun from sightAnd over all a shadowy roof outspread,Making the day dim with another night—Not dark like that which passed, but oh! more dreadFor the clear sunlight that had gone beforeAnd prophecy of that which yet should snow at night the wind-blown hills of sandShone with an inward light far down the land:Beneath the lowering sky black was the seaAcross whose waves a bird came flying low —Borne swift on the wind with wing-beat halt and slow—?From out the dull east toward the foamy was an awful waiting in the earthAs if a mystery greatened to its birth:Though late it seemed, the day was just begunWhen lo ! at last, the many-colored bowStood in the heavens over against the sun. 35 PART MY LOVE FOR THEE DOTH MARCH LIKEARMED MEN. My love for thee doth march hke armed menAgainst a queenly city they would the armys front its banners shake;Across the mountain and the sun-smit plain It steadfast sweeps as sweeps the steadfast rain;And now the trumpet makes the still air quake,And now the thundering cannon doth awakeEcho on echo, echoing loud again. But, lo ! the conquest higher than bard had sung;Instead of answering cannon comes a smallWhite flag; the iron gates are open flung, And flowers along the invaders pathway citys conquerors feast their foes among,And their brave flags are trophies on her wall. 39 40 THE NEW DAY, II. I WILL BE BRAVE FOR THEE. I WILL be brave for thee, dear heart; for theeMy boasted bravery forego. I willFor thee be wise, or lose my little skill,—Coward or brave; wise, foolish; bond or free. No grievous cost in anything I see That brings thee bliss, or only keeps thee, painless peace. So Heaven thy cup but fill,Be em
Size: 2798px × 893px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublishernewyorkcscribnerss
