Before Thought
Dawn paints quaint histories
In pageant on my wall;
Imminent destinies
Concern it not at all.
Poems on the topic: dawn
Poems on the topic “dawn” on Poets.by.
The Bird at Dawn
What I saw was just one eye
In the dawn as I was going :
A bird can carry all the sky
In that little button glowing.
Never in my life I went
So deep into the firmament.
He was standing on a tree,
All in blossom overflowing ;
And he purposely looked hard at me,
At first, as if to question merrily :
" Where are you going ? "
But next some far more serious thing to say
I could not answer, could not look away.
Oh, that hard, round, and so distracting eye
Little mirror of all sky !-
And then the after-song another tree
Spring Dawn
There comes to my heart from regions remote
A wild desire for the hedge and the brush,
Whenever I hear the first wild note
Of the meadow lark and the hermit thrush.
The broken and upturned earth to the air,
By a million thrusting blades of Spring,
Sends out from the sod and everywhere
Its pungent aromas over everything.
Then it's Oh, for the hills, the dawn, and the dew,
The breath of the fields and the silent lake.
And watching the wings of light burst through
The scarlet blush of the new daybreak.
It is then, when the earth still nestles in sleep,
And the robes of light are scarce unfurled.
You can almost feel, in its mighty sweep.
The onward rush and roll of the world.
The Lotus-Worshippers
With silent feet in trailing robes of white
They crept from shadowy temples, far beyond
Tall bamboo groves, to seek the lotus-pond
That gleamed like some dark jewel through the night
Upon great Buddha's breast. The crimson height
Echoed their chanting as the morning dawned,
And each bud, breaking from its silver bond,
Lifted its cup to catch the golden light.
And here beside this mist-bound northern lake,
Encircled by tall spires of Gothic firs,
The ancient beauty-worship wakes and stirs
Within me, as I watch the morning break
Upon white lily-buds, whose lips agleam
Whisper the secret of the world-old dream.
Japanese Love-Songs 4
Darkness. Shadows in my soul.
The vision of your face.
Dawn and music.
Home
A burst of sudden wings at dawn,
Faint voices in a dreamy noon,
Evenings of mist and murmurings,
And nights with rainbows of the moon.
And through these things a wood-way dim,
And waters dim, and slow sheep seen
On uphill paths that wind away
Through summer sounds and harvest green.
This is a song a robin sang
This morning on a broken tree,
It was about the little fields
That call across the world to me.
Dawn
So begins the day,
Solid, chill, and grey,
But my heart will wake
Happy for your sake;
Singing like a child,
No more tossed and wild,
Quiet as a flower
In this first grey hour.
So my heart will wake
Happy, for your sake.
Recuerdo
We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable--
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon.
We were very tired, we were very merry--
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.
We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
Jeremy Carlisle
Passer-by, sin beyond any sin
Is the sin of blindness of souls to other souls.
And joy beyond any joy is the joy
Of having the good in you seen, and seeing the good
At the miraculous moment!
Here I confess to a lofty scorn,
And an acrid skepticism.
But do you remember the liquid that Penniwit
Poured on tintypes making them blue
With a mist like hickory smoke?
Then how the picture began to clear
Till the face came forth like life?
So you appeared to me, neglected ones,
And enemies too, as I went along
With my face growing clearer to you as yours
Grew clearer to me.
Coming of Dawn
Thin silver cloud-veils hide the moon.
The star-steeds of the chariot of night
Course for the western hills;
The west-wind a ceaseless flute playing,
With its stops of falling autumn leaves.
The forest and the valley a map
Drawn by the explorers in the land of reverie:
They color it with tones of violet and lavender;
Or, make rainbow waves of leaf and light
With tones from the changing palette of the breeze.
At last, the thin clouds become thinner yet;
The moon now a moonstone in an opal dream;
The leaves cease dropping, and dead the wind;
Begins a new measure, a new flute playing,
As the star-steeds' golden hoofs touch the western hills.
After Reading Yone Noguchi
Between the rose garden
And the sunset,
I sought my beloved.
Between the dawn's blush
And night's star;
Between dream's arm and
Sleep's embrace,
I sought my beloved,
Between the rose garden and the sunset.
Winter Dawn
Green star Sirius
Dribbling over the lake;
The stars have gone so far on their road,
Yet we're awake!
Without a sound
The new young year comes in
And is half-way over the lake.
We must begin
Again. This love so full
Of hate has hurt us so,
We lie side by side
Moored--but no,
Let me get up
And wash quite clean
Of this hate.--
So green
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