| Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | Poems. X. Morning. By the Seaside | | By Frances Anne Kemble (18091893) |
| | | WITH these two kisses on thine eyes | |
| I melt thy sleep awayarise! | |
| For look, my love, Phbus his golden hand | |
| Hath laid upon the white mane of the sea, | |
| And springing from the fresh brine gloriously, | 5 |
| He glances keen oer the long level strand. | |
| Now come his horses up, all snorting fire, | |
| The lovely morning hours, hymning their choir | |
| Of triumph, circle round the royal sun, | |
| And the bright pageant of the days begun. | 10 |
| Come, let me lock in mine thy hand, | |
| And pace we with swift feet, this smooth and sparkling sand. | |
| See, how the swollen ridges of the waves | |
| Curl into crystal caves, | |
| Rising and rounding, | 15 |
| Rolling, rebounding, | |
| Echoing, resounding, | |
| And running into curves of creamy spray, | |
| Mark, with white wavy lines, the far-indented bay. | |
| The little bark, that by the sheltering shore, | 20 |
| Folded her wings, and rocked herself to sleep, | |
| Shakes out her pinions to the breeze once more, | |
| And like a swallow, dips, and skims the deep. | |
| Hail, welcome day! hail, miracle of light! | |
| Hail, wondrous resurrection from the night! | 25 |
| Hail, glorious earth! hail, ocean, fearful fair! | |
| Hail, ye sweet kisses of fresh morning air! | |
| Hail thou! my love, my life, my air, my light, | |
| Soul of my day! my morning, noon, and night! | | | | |
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