Mrs. James Glenny Wilson: The Lark's Song
The DayPoems Poetry Collection
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The Lark's Song

Born 6/11/1848


The morning is wild and dark,
         The night mist runs on the vale,
Bright Lucifer dies to a spark,
         And the wind whistles up for a gale.
And stormy the day may be
         That breaks through its prison bars,
But it brings no regret to me,
         For I sing at the door of the stars!

Along the dim ocean-verge
         I see the ships labouring on;
They rise on the lifting surge
         One moment, and they are gone.
I see on the twilight plain
         The flash of the flying cars;
Men travail in joy or pain --
         But I sing at the door of the stars!

I see the green, sleeping world,
         The pastures all glazed with rime;
The smoke from the chimney curled;
         I hear the faint church bells chime.
I see the grey mountain crest,
         The slopes, and the forest spars,
With the dying moon on their breast --
         While I sing at the door of the stars!


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DayPoems Poem No. 882



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