Verse > Anthologies > Higginson and Bigelow, eds. > American Sonnets
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Higginson and Bigelow, comps.  American Sonnets.  1891.
 
At Dawn
By Sylvia Lawson Covey
 
NIGHT shadows fly. The air is crisp and sweet
  With orange fragrance. Golden apples gird
  The waxen whiteness of new buds, just stirred
By zephyr’s finger. See him, winging fleet
To where the roses at the house-roof meet,—        5
  That feathered joy, the jocund mocking-bird!
  Such songs ecstatic day hath never heard,
Rippling across wide fields of springing wheat.
And still she lingers, loth to rise and fold
  The curtaining mist from off the mountain snows;        10
Flushing with pink the granite gray and old,
  Ere low she stoops to paint yon opening rose.
Now from pale clouds the pearl tints fade away,
The garden lies in morning’s garish ray!
 
 
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