Morning Poem by Ann Radcliffe

Darkness! thro thy chilling glooms,
Weakly trembles twilight grey;
Twilight fades-and Morning comes,
And melts thy shadows swift away!

She comes in her Aetherial car,
Involv'd in many a varying hue;
And thro' the azure shoots afar,
Spirit-light-and life anew!

Her breath revives the drooping flowers,
Her ray dissolves the dews of night;
Recalls the sprightly-moving hours,
And the green scene unveils in light!

Her's the fresh gale that wanders wild
O'er mountain top, and woodland glade;
And fondly steals the breath, beguil'd,
Of ev'ry flow'r in ev'ry shade.

Mother of Roses!-bright Aurora!-hail!
Thee shall the chorus of the hours salute,
And song of early birds from ev'ry vale,
And blithsome horn, and fragrant zephyr mute!

And oft as rising o'er the plain,
Thou and thy roseate Nymphs appear,
This simple song in choral strain,
From rapturing Bards shall meet thine ear.

CHORUS.

Dance ye lightly-lightly on!
'Tis the bold lark thro' the air,
Hails your beauties with his song;
Lightly-lightly fleeting air!'