Classic Poem

Awake with the sunrise! Clamber on the hills
To find the gold orient,
And being first to greet the sunlight, each
Will guaff to his soul's content.
The dear morn of God like a sapful freshet goes
Around you, and o'erflows;
For all the aged and withered in your heart
Its sunlight will revive,
And all idolatrous and vile therein
The morning star will shrive.
Guard ye the golden treasure hid away
As succour for your heart.
Ye who approached, burdened with sin and care,
Guiltless and rich will part.
O! ye decrepit, rotted of the night,
Pray for the sun — the light.
Moist with dew of blossoms ye'll return
And deck with mantle green
Each one his friend, and each in his father's house
Will tell of the wide demesne.
Then in the fields ye will strew the stars to play
On the children's heads to-day.
Descend to find in the dark
Your brother low and stark,
The light will tremble, leaning on his heart,
And lips pressed softly ope:
— Rise, brother, pray, for there is room for prayer,
And a place for hope — come hope! —
Then he will awake — your friend of yesternight —
And thirst for the sun — the light.
If ye, in search for sunlight, found but void,
Go, fashion it from nought,
Hew it from crags and guarry from the rocks,
In cells of the heart be it sought.
And when the God of light draws back the veil
'Twill spread and never fail;
Your waifs will come anew
To lift their soul to you
And in your bosom they will lodge desires
Sacred — to their sons impart
This heritage from age to age command:
— Live, stint no toil, take heart!
— Weaned from the darkness, drawn from the breasts of night,
Clasp to your head the light! —