Ere breaks the light,
Stars that through the darkness swim
Are sinking in the distance dim.

See! the day its spears hath hurled
From the Eastern world;
And each shaft is flaming red
As though the night had dying bled.

Matin song of skylark gay
Proclaims the day;
Fled the dragons of the dark
And quenched the firefly's glimmering spark.

White its head now Snowdon rears,
The sun appears!
Day and brightness, lo, he brings
To pauper's cot and hall of kings.



The White Stone.


Though far from my poor, feeble hand,
My country's harp of gold,
Though far from that dear home I stand,
Where it was played of old,
My mother tongue hath yet a spell
And inward voice, which bids me tell