Hymn to the Morning

Dublin Core

Title

Hymn to the Morning

Description


Attend my lays, ye ever honour'd mine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine,
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.

Aurora, hail, and all the thousands dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the leather'd race resume
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plumes.

Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope, awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire;
The bow'ers, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.

See in the east th' illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away -
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th' abortive song.

Creator

Philis Wheatley (Phillis Wheatley)

Source

1:35, p. 140

Date

1827.11.09

Collection

Citation

Philis Wheatley (Phillis Wheatley), “Hymn to the Morning,” Periodical Poets, accessed April 14, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/87.

Comments

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