The Poems of Henry Van Dyke by Henry Van Dyke
page 58 of 481 (12%)
page 58 of 481 (12%)
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A stillness deeper than the dearth of sound
Broods over thee: a living silence breathes Perpetual incense from thy dim abyss. The morning-stars that sang above the bower Of Eden, passing over thee, are dumb With trembling bright amazement; and the Dawn Steals through the glimmering pines with naked feet, Her hand upon her lips, to look on thee! She peers into thy depths with silent prayer For light, more light, to part thy purple veil. O Earth, swift-rolling Earth, reveal, reveal,-- Turn to the East, and show upon thy breast The mightiest marvel in the realm of Time! 'Tis done,--the morning miracle of light,-- The resurrection of the world of hues That die with dark, and daily rise again With every rising of the splendid Sun! Be still, my heart! Now Nature holds her breath To see the solar flood of radiance leap Across the chasm, and crown the western rim Of alabaster with a far-away Rampart of pearl, and flowing down by walls Of changeful opal, deepen into gold Of topaz, rosy gold of tourmaline, Crimson of garnet, green and gray of jade, Purple of amethyst, and ruby red, Beryl, and sard, and royal porphyry; Until the cataract of colour breaks |
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