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The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap, And, like a lobster boil'd, the morn From black to red began to turn. - Samuel Butler (1), Hudibras (pt. II, cant II, l. 29) I say the sun is a most glorious sight, I've seen him rise full oft, indeed of late I have sat up on purpose all the night, Which hastens, as physicians say, one's fate; And so all ye, who would be in the right In health and purse, begin your day to date From daybreak and when coffin'd at four-score, Engrave upon the plate, you rose at four. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron) The morning light, which rains its quivering beams Wide o'er the plains, the summits, and the streams, In one broad blaze expands its golden glow On all that answers to its glance below. - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. Oh the road to Mandalay Where the flyin'-fishes play An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay! - Rudyard Kipling, Mandalay It is right precious to behold The first long surf of climbing light Flood all the thirsty east with gold. - James Russell Lowell 'Tis morn. Behold the kingly Day now leaps The eastern wall of earth with sword in hand, Clad in a flowing robe of mellow light, Like to a king that has regain'd his throne, He warms his drooping subjects into joy, That rise rejoiced to do him fealty, And rules with pomp the universal world. - Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller) The east is blossoming! Yea, a rose, Vast as the heavens, soft as a kiss, Sweet as the presence of woman is, Rises and reaches, and widens and grows Large and luminous up from the sea, And out of the sea, as a blossoming tree, Richer and richer, so higher and higher, Deeper and deeper it takes its hue; Brighter and brighter it reaches through The space of heaven and the place of stars, Till all is as rich as a rose can be, And my rose-leaves fall into billows of fire. - Joaquin Miller (pseudonym of Cincinnatus Hiner Miller), Sunrise in Venice Angel of light! who from the time Those heavens began their march sublime, Hath first of all the starry choir Trod in his Maker's steps of fire! - Thomas Moore Only the country-liver can fully feel it--this dying of night with the birth of day--this supreme moment when the mists and dimness and low voices of the one exhale into the melody and brightness of the other. It is a daily miracle--this sudden transition from gray to rosy light--this unrolling of the dew-covered landscape--this assumption, in delicious crescendo, of sound--this quickening of the day's life over the sleep of night--this flying of darkness, as of a ghost pursued, before the flooding of light--this oldest of all stories again told. Awake, for the day has dawned. - Ellen Chapman (Hobbs) Rollins (used pseudonym E.H. Arr) The whole east was flecked With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst, While a light crimson mist Went up before the mounting luminary, And all the strips of cloud began to vary Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope As if to show a cope beyond the cope! - Epes Sargent, Sunrise at Sea He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines And darts his light through every guilty hole. - William Shakespeare The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east. - William Shakespeare She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down And rest your gentle head upon her lap, And she will sing the song that pleaseth you And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep, Charming your brood with pleasing heaviness, Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team Begins his golden progress in the east. - William Shakespeare, King Henry the Fourth, Part I (Glendower at III, i) Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not That when the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, that lights the lower world, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen In murders and in outrage boldly here; But when from under this terrestrial ball He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines And darts his light through every guilty hole, Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, The cloak of night being plucked from off their backs, Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves? - William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of King Richard the Second (King Richard at III, ii) As when the golden sun salutes the morn, And having gilt the ocean with his beams, Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach And overlooks the highest-peering hills, So Tamora. - William Shakespeare, Titus Andronicus (Aaron at II, i) Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail! Rejoic'd I see thy purple mantle spread O'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way, And orient pearls from ev'ry shrub depend. - William C. Somerville, The Chase (bk. II, l. 79) Yonder fly his scattered golden arrows, And smite the hills with day. - Bayard Taylor And yonder fly his scattered golden arrows, And smite the hills with day. - Bayard Taylor, The Poet's Journal--Third Evening--Morning See! led by Morn, with dewy feet, Apollo mounts his golden seat, Replete with seven-fold fire; While, dazzled by his conquering light, Heaven's glittering host and awful night Submissively retire. - Thomas Taylor ("The Platonist"), Ode to the Rising Sun And lo! in a flash of crimson splendor, with blazing scarlet clouds running before his chariot, and heralding his majestic approach, God's sun rises upon the world. - William Makepeace Thackeray See how there The cowled night Kneels on the Eastern sanctuary-stair. - Francis Thompson, A Corymbus for Autumn (st. 5) East, oh, east of Himalay Dwell the nations underground, Hiding from the shock of day, For the sun's uprising sound . . . So fearfully the sun doth sound, Clanging up beyond Cathay; For the great earthquaking sunrise Rolling up beyond Cathay. - Francis Thompson, The Mistress of Vision When from the opening chambers of the east The morning springs in thousand liveries drest, The early larks their morning tribute pay, And, in shrill notes, salute the blooming day. - James Thomson (1) But yonder comes the power King of Day, Rejoicing in the East. - James Thomson (1), Seasons--Summer (l. 81) The rising sun complies with our weak sight, First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light At such a distance from our eyes, as though He knew what harm his hasty beams would do. - Edmund Waller, To the King upon His Majesty's Happy Return (l. 1) Displaying page 1 of 2 for this topic: Next >> [1] 2
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