THE MOST EXTENSIVE
ON THE INTERNET
The Morn! she is the source of all sighs,
The very face to make us sad;
If but to think in other times
The same calm quiet look she had.
- Thomas Hood, Ode to Melancholy
The blessed morn has come again;
The early gray
Taps at the slumberer's window pane,
And seems to say,
Break, break from the enchanter's chain,
- Ralph Hoyt, Snow--A Winter Sketch
I have heard the mavis singing
Its live-song to the morn;
I've seen the dew-drop clinging
To the rose just newly born.
- Charles Jefferys (Jeffreys or Jeffries),
Mary of Argyle
Hues of the rich unfolding morn,
That, ere the glorious sun be born,
By some soft touch invisible
Around his path are taught to swell.
- John Keble, Christian Year--Morning
Behold the morning! Rise up, O youth and quickly fill thyself with this rosy wine sparkling from the crystal cup of the dawn!
- Omar Khayyam ("The Tent-Maker")
Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird,
Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer,
Kisses the blushing leaf.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A fine morning,
Nothing's the matter with it that I know of.
I have seen better and I have seen worse.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Christus
(pt. III, John Endicott, act V, sc. 2)
Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,
And through the opening door that time unlocks
Feel the fresh breathing of To-morrow creep.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, To-morrow
Dropt from the opening eyelids of the morn
Upon the bashful rose.
- Thomas Middleton, Game of Chess
Morn, waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand unbarred the gates of light.
- John Milton
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
- John Milton, Lycidas (l. 171)
Under the opening eyelids of the morn.
- John Milton, Lycidas (l. 26)
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds.
- John Milton, Paradise Lost
(bk. IV, l. 641)
Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime
Advancing, sow'd the earth with Orient pearl.
- John Milton, Paradise Lost (bk. V, l. 1)
Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarr'd the gates of light.
- John Milton, Paradise Lost (bk. VI, l. 2)
Till morning fair
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray.
- John Milton, Paradise Regained
(bk. IV, l. 426)
When did morning ever break,
And find such beaming eyes awake?
- Thomas Moore, Fly not Yet
The morning hour has gold at the mouth.
[Ger., Morgen Stunde hat Gold im Munde.]
- for history of, see Friedrich Max Muller,
Lectures on the Science of Language
(sec. series, p. 378 (1864 ed.))
O how beautiful is morning!
How the sunbeams strike the daisies
And the kingcups fill the meadow
Like a golden-shielded army
Marching to the uplands fair.
- Dinah Maria Mulock (used pseudonym Mrs. Craik)
Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn
And spangles deck the thorn.
- John O'Keeffe, Tsar Peter (act I, sc. 4)
Hadn't he been blowing kisses to Earth millions of years before I was born?
- James Oppenheim, Morning and I
But now the clouds in airy tumult fly;
The sun, emerging, opes an azure sky;
A fresher green the smiling leaves display,
And glittering as they tremble, cheer the day.
- Thomas Parnell
When rosy morning glimmered o'er the dales.
- Alexander Pope
The eastern hanging crescent climbeth higher;
See, purple on the azure softly steals,
And Morning, faintly touched with quivering fire,
Leans on the frosty summits of the hills,
Like a young girl over her hoary sire.
- William Roscoe
At length the morn and cold indifference came.
- Nicholas Rowe, Fair Penitent (act I, 1)
Displaying page 2 of 4 for this topic: << Prev Next >> 1  3 4