George Hannibal Temple

The Dawn Is Breaking

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Forth breaks the dawn, and gilds the Eastern sky,
Swift to their secret nests the night owls hie;
The flowers of morning ope their beauty rare,
And spread their heavenly perfume everywhere.


Oh, list the joyous lark's reveille song,
In cadence sweet, the sylvan glens among,
Where wood nymphs lurk and hides the gathering bee
His golden nectar won from flowers free!


Fair is the morn, when, like a phantom shield,
The white-winged mist lifts o'er the early field;
The roses sweet where thorns the vigil keep,
When, steeped in dew, they bloom in colors deep.


So opes the pleasant scene at early dawn,
When dance the sylphs upon the dew-spread lawn;
While yet the rosy Morn, with dreamy light,
Glows all resplendent in the wake of night.

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