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: :-. FROM POETRY OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY .
LIGHT . BY SIR ROBERT HOWARD . Parent of day ! whose beauteous beams of light Spring from the darksome womb of night , And midst their native horrors show
Like gems adorning the swart negro ' s brow , Not heaven ' s fair bow can equal thee , Iu all its gaudy drapery , Thou first essay of morn , and pledge of day , That usher ' st in the sun , ancl still prepar ' st his way .
Like some fair bride thou risest from thy bed Ancl dost around thy lustre spread , Around the universe dispense New life to all ancl quickening influence . " With gloomy smiles thy rival , night , Beholds the glorious dawn of light ; Not all the wealth she views in mines below Can match thy brighter beams or equal lustre show .
To thee the grateful east their altars raise , And sing with early hymns thy praise ; Thou dost their happy soil bestow , Enrich the heavens above , and earth below : Thou risest in the fragrant east Like the fair phoenix from her balmy nest . No altar of the gods can equal thine—The air is richest incense , the whole land thy shrine .
Before the almighty Artist framed the sk y , Or gave the earth its harmony , His first command was for the light ; He view'd thy lovely birth , and blessed it . In purple swaddling-bands it struggling lay , Not yet maturely bright for clay . Old Chaos then a cheerful smile put on , And from thy beauteous form did first presage its own .
" Let there be light , " the great Creator said , His word the active universe obeyed : Night did her teeming womb disclose , And then the blushing morn its brightest on ' spring rose ; Awhile the almighty Master view'd , And then himself pronounced it good : " With night , " said he , " divide the imperial sway ,
Thou my first labour art , and thou shalt bless the day . "
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Selections
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: :-. FROM POETRY OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY .
LIGHT . BY SIR ROBERT HOWARD . Parent of day ! whose beauteous beams of light Spring from the darksome womb of night , And midst their native horrors show
Like gems adorning the swart negro ' s brow , Not heaven ' s fair bow can equal thee , Iu all its gaudy drapery , Thou first essay of morn , and pledge of day , That usher ' st in the sun , ancl still prepar ' st his way .
Like some fair bride thou risest from thy bed Ancl dost around thy lustre spread , Around the universe dispense New life to all ancl quickening influence . " With gloomy smiles thy rival , night , Beholds the glorious dawn of light ; Not all the wealth she views in mines below Can match thy brighter beams or equal lustre show .
To thee the grateful east their altars raise , And sing with early hymns thy praise ; Thou dost their happy soil bestow , Enrich the heavens above , and earth below : Thou risest in the fragrant east Like the fair phoenix from her balmy nest . No altar of the gods can equal thine—The air is richest incense , the whole land thy shrine .
Before the almighty Artist framed the sk y , Or gave the earth its harmony , His first command was for the light ; He view'd thy lovely birth , and blessed it . In purple swaddling-bands it struggling lay , Not yet maturely bright for clay . Old Chaos then a cheerful smile put on , And from thy beauteous form did first presage its own .
" Let there be light , " the great Creator said , His word the active universe obeyed : Night did her teeming womb disclose , And then the blushing morn its brightest on ' spring rose ; Awhile the almighty Master view'd , And then himself pronounced it good : " With night , " said he , " divide the imperial sway ,
Thou my first labour art , and thou shalt bless the day . "