Classic Poem

Now the sun begins to sprinkle
Eastern clouds with purple hue,
And on bush and grass-blade twinkle
Pearly showers of dripping dew.

All the woodland birds are winging
Jubilant from spray to spray,
Myriad songs of joy upspringing
Ere the last have died away.

Inlets ripple, waves are bending,
Groves are stirred by gentle flaws,
Leaf and flower perfumes blending
With each breath the bosom draws.

Angel, friend of every being,
You that dwell in yon far skies,
Dawn, — what man with power of seeing
Looks on you with sullen eyes?

Fled the mists of care that lower,
Gone the clouds from every brow,
Day in this his childhood hour
Loves but childlike feelings now.

Not one sad or mournful creature,
Joy and hope in all have part,
With the wakening morn of nature
Morning wakes in every heart.