Author James Oppenheim Fling your lasso of light curling about our heads, Morning-fire, Smite with your spears of gold the pulse of our hearts, Strike sun-up song from our souls, that arising with kisses We become the crown of life, A young garland of the Earth. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments