27.01.2019, 07:32
III.
BUT thou, To-morrow ! never yet was born
In earth's dull atmosphere a thing so fair
Never yet tripped, with footsteps light as air,
So glad a vision o'er the hills of morn !
Fresh as the radiant dawning, all unworn
By lightest touch of sorrow, or of care,
Thou dost the glory of the morning share
By snowy wings of hope and faith upborne !
O, fair To-morrow! what our souls have missed
Art thou not keeping for us, somewhere, still ?
The buds of promise that have never blown
The tender lips that we have never kissed
The song whose high, sweet strain eludes our skill
The one white pearl that life hath never known !
.
BUT thou, To-morrow ! never yet was born
In earth's dull atmosphere a thing so fair
Never yet tripped, with footsteps light as air,
So glad a vision o'er the hills of morn !
Fresh as the radiant dawning, all unworn
By lightest touch of sorrow, or of care,
Thou dost the glory of the morning share
By snowy wings of hope and faith upborne !
O, fair To-morrow! what our souls have missed
Art thou not keeping for us, somewhere, still ?
The buds of promise that have never blown
The tender lips that we have never kissed
The song whose high, sweet strain eludes our skill
The one white pearl that life hath never known !
.