Dawn

Bright sun rays stream across my face
As morning fair begins to break;
No sleeper can remain thus so
Beneath the brilliant, golden glow.

A finch on yonder window-pane
With whistle clear, sings his refrain,
And bids me rise and meet the morn
Which one hour since had not been born.

Now rise will I, embrace the day,
No more in slumber’s hold I’ll lay;
For daylight beckons me abroad,
To gaze upon the works of God.


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