{"id":241,"date":"2021-04-05T10:52:22","date_gmt":"2021-04-05T14:52:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.ryerson.ca\/flintandfeather\/?post_type=chapter&p=241"},"modified":"2022-02-04T09:50:06","modified_gmt":"2022-02-04T14:50:06","slug":"day-dawn","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/chapter\/day-dawn\/","title":{"raw":"Day Dawn","rendered":"Day Dawn"},"content":{"raw":"All yesterday the thought of you was resting in my soul,\r\nAnd when sleep wandered o\u2019er the world that very thought she stole\r\nTo fill my dreams with splendour such as stars could not eclipse,\r\nAnd in the morn I wakened with your name upon my lips.\r\n\r\nAwakened, my beloved, to the morning of your eyes,\r\nYour splendid eyes, so full of clouds, wherein a shadow tries\r\nTo overcome the flame that melts into the world of grey,\r\nAs coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day.\r\n\r\nCool drifts the air at dawn of day, cool lies the sleeping dew,\r\nBut all my heart is burning, for it woke from dreams of you;\r\nAnd O! these longing eyes of mine look out and only see\r\nA dying night, a waking day, and calm on all but me.\r\n\r\nSo gently creeps the morning through the heavy air,\r\nThe dawn grey-garbed and velvet-shod is wandering everywhere\r\nTo wake the slumber-laden hours that leave their dreamless rest,\r\nWith outspread, laggard wings to court the pillows of the west.\r\n\r\nUp from the earth a moisture steals with odours fresh and soft,\r\nA smell of moss and grasses warm with dew, and far aloft\r\nThe stars are growing colourless, while drooping in the west,\r\nA late, wan moon is paling in a sky of amethyst.\r\n\r\nThe passing of the shadows, as they waft their pinions near,\r\nHas stirred a tender wind within the night-hushed atmosphere,\r\nThat in its homeless wanderings sobs in an undertone\r\nAn echo to my heart that sobbing calls for you alone.\r\n\r\nThe night is gone, beloved, and another day set free,\r\nAnother day of hunger for the one I may not see.\r\nWhat care I for the perfect dawn? the blue and empty skies?\r\nThe night is always mine without the morning of your eyes.","rendered":"

All yesterday the thought of you was resting in my soul,
\nAnd when sleep wandered o\u2019er the world that very thought she stole
\nTo fill my dreams with splendour such as stars could not eclipse,
\nAnd in the morn I wakened with your name upon my lips.<\/p>\n

Awakened, my beloved, to the morning of your eyes,
\nYour splendid eyes, so full of clouds, wherein a shadow tries
\nTo overcome the flame that melts into the world of grey,
\nAs coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day.<\/p>\n

Cool drifts the air at dawn of day, cool lies the sleeping dew,
\nBut all my heart is burning, for it woke from dreams of you;
\nAnd O! these longing eyes of mine look out and only see
\nA dying night, a waking day, and calm on all but me.<\/p>\n

So gently creeps the morning through the heavy air,
\nThe dawn grey-garbed and velvet-shod is wandering everywhere
\nTo wake the slumber-laden hours that leave their dreamless rest,
\nWith outspread, laggard wings to court the pillows of the west.<\/p>\n

Up from the earth a moisture steals with odours fresh and soft,
\nA smell of moss and grasses warm with dew, and far aloft
\nThe stars are growing colourless, while drooping in the west,
\nA late, wan moon is paling in a sky of amethyst.<\/p>\n

The passing of the shadows, as they waft their pinions near,
\nHas stirred a tender wind within the night-hushed atmosphere,
\nThat in its homeless wanderings sobs in an undertone
\nAn echo to my heart that sobbing calls for you alone.<\/p>\n

The night is gone, beloved, and another day set free,
\nAnother day of hunger for the one I may not see.
\nWhat care I for the perfect dawn? the blue and empty skies?
\nThe night is always mine without the morning of your eyes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":14,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-241","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":209,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/241","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/241\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":242,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/241\/revisions\/242"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/209"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/241\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=241"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=241"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=241"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/flintandfeather\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=241"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}