. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . As melting snow leaves bare the mountain-sideIn spaces that grow wider and more wide,So melted from the sky the cloudy vailThat hid the face of sunrise. Land and ledgeAnd waste of glittering waters sent a glareBack to the smiting sun. The trembling airLay, sea on sea, along the horizons edge;And on that upper ocean, clear as tall ships followed with deep-mirrored sailLike clouds wind-moved that follow and that pass;And on that upper ocean, far and fair,Floated low islands all unseen grew the ocean shaken through with light,And
. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . As melting snow leaves bare the mountain-sideIn spaces that grow wider and more wide,So melted from the sky the cloudy vailThat hid the face of sunrise. Land and ledgeAnd waste of glittering waters sent a glareBack to the smiting sun. The trembling airLay, sea on sea, along the horizons edge;And on that upper ocean, clear as tall ships followed with deep-mirrored sailLike clouds wind-moved that follow and that pass;And on that upper ocean, far and fair,Floated low islands all unseen grew the ocean shaken through with light,And blue the heavens faint-flecked with plumy white. 75 76 THE NEW DAY. Like pennants on the wind, from oer the rocksThe birds whirled seaward in shrill-piping flocks:And through the dawn, as through the shadowy night,The sound of waves that break upon the shore ! PART IV„. I. SONG. LOVE, Love, my love,The best things are the truest!When the earth lies shadowy dark below Oh then the heavens are bluest!Deep the blue of the sky, And sharp the gleam of the oh, more bright against the nightThe Auroras crimson bars! 79 8o THE NEW DAY. II. THE MIRROR. That I should love thee seemeth meet and wise,. So beautiful thou art that he were mad Who in thy countenance no pleasure had; Who felt not the still music of thine eyesFall on his forehead, as the evening skies The music of the stars feel and are glad. But oer my mind one doubt still cast a shade Till in my thoughts this answer did arise:That thou shouldst love me is not wise or meet^ For like thee, Love, I am not beautiful. And yet I think that haply in my faceThou findest a true beauty—this poor, dull, Disfigured mirror dimly may repeat A little part of thy most heavenly grace. THE NEW DAY. III. LIKENESS IN UNLIKENESS. We are alike, and yet—oh strange and sweet! —Each in the other difference di
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