Dawn

In the shimmer of the new-born day, The world lays soft and pale; From mist and fog, in gentle sway, The sun begins to sail.

With blush of rose, and gold’s bright gleam, The mirthful morn awakes; As nature dances ‘neath the beam, The quiet heart now breaks.

So rise and hear the glorious flight, The lark sings clear and true; In dawn’s embrace, find pure delight In everything anew.

• Mary Gilmore