4

Fair Morn! though light and fleet thy stay,
Though brief, thy brilliant smile,
Yet balances the frowns of day,
The world's great woes, and wile;
Worship of self and gust for gain,
And all the rudeness of that reign
Which worldly usage doth maintain.
I dearly love to look on thee,
For thou an earnest art to me
Though short thine earthly stay,
Of time to come when woe shall die,
And vice and falsehood both shall fly,
Oh happy, holy day!
Then shall the just soul heavenward borne,
Leaving the dust garb it had worn,
With holy passion hail Immortal Morn!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.