Poetry Archives

I greet the challenge of the dawn
         With weary, bleary eyes;
Into the sky so ashen wan
         I wait the sun to rise;
Then in the morning’s holy hush,
         With heart of shame I hear
A robin from a lilac bush
         Pipe pure and clear.
         
All night in dive and dicing den,
         With wantons and with wine
I’ve squandered on wild, witless men
         The fortune that was mine;
The gold my father fought to save
         In folly I have spent;
And now to fill a pauper’s grave
         My steps are bent.

See! how the sky is amber bright!
         The thrushes thrill their glee.
The dew-drops sparkle with delight,
         And yonder smiles the sea.
Oh let me plunge to drown the pain
         Of love and faith forgot:
Then purged I may return again,
        —Or I may not.