|Sacrament of morning.|
E. B. BrowningSabbath at Sea. St. 6. Last Line.
|The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by|
As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.
|The morn is up again, the dewy morn,|
With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom,
Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn,
And living as if earth contained no tomb,
And glowing into day.
ByronChilde Harold. Canto III. St. 98.
|Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose|
From out nights gray and cloudy sheath;
Softly and still it grows and grows,
Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
Susan CoolidgeThe Morning Comes Before the Sun.
|Awake thee, my Lady-Love!|
Wake thee, and rise!
The sun through the bower peeps
Into thine eyes.
George DarleySylvia; or, The May Queen. Act IV. Sc. 1.
|I saw myself the lambent easy light|
Gild the brown horror, and dispel the night.
DrydenHind and Panther. Pt. II. L. 1,230.
|The breezy call of incense-breathing morn.|
GrayElegy in a Country Churchyard. St. 5.
|Now from the smooth deep ocean-stream the sun|
Began to climb the heavens, and with new rays
Smote the surrounding fields.
HomerIliad. Bk. VII. L. 525. Bryants trans.
|In saffron-colored mantle from the tides|
Of Ocean rose the Morning to bright light
To gods and men.
HomerIliad. Bk. XIX. L. 1. Bryants trans.
|The Morn! she is the source of sighs,|
The very face to make us sad;
If but to think in other times
The same calm quiet look she had.
HoodOde to Melancholy.
|The blessed morn has come again;|
The early gray
Taps at the slumberers window pane,
And seems to say,
Break, break from the enchanters chain,
Ralph HoytSnow. A Winter Sketch.
|I have heard the mavis singing|
Its love-song to the morn;
Ive seen the dew-drop clinging
To the rose just newly born.
Charles JeffreysMary of Argyle.
|Hues of the rich unfolding morn,|
That, ere the glorious sun be born,
By some soft touch invisible
Around his path are taught to swell.
KebleThe Christian Year. Morning.
| A fine morning,|
Nothings the matter with it that I know of.
I have seen better and I have seen worse.
LongfellowChristus. Pt. III. John Endicott. Act V. Sc. 2.
|Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,|
And through the opening door that time unlocks
Feel the fresh breathing of To-morrow creep.
| Like pearl|
Dropt from the opening eyelids of the morn
Upon the bashful rose.
MiddletonGame of Chess.
|Under the opening eyelids of the morn.|
MiltonLycidas. L. 26.
|Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.|
MiltonLycidas. L. 171.
|Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,|
With charm of earliest birds.
MiltonParadise Lost. Bk. IV. L. 641.
|Now morn, her rosy steps in th eastern clime|
Advancing, sowd the earth with Orient pearl.
MiltonParadise Lost. Bk. V. L. 1.
Wakd by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarrd the gates of light.
MiltonParadise Lost. Bk. VI. L. 2.
| Till morning fair|
Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray.
MiltonParadise Regained. Bk. IV. L. 426.
|When did morning ever break,|
And find such beaming eyes awake?
MooreFly not Yet.
|Morgen Stunde hat Gold im Munde.|
The morning hour has gold in the mouth.
For history of the saying see Max MüllerLectures on the Science of Language. Sec. Series. P. 378. (Ed. 1864).
| Hadnt he been blowing kisses to Earth millions of years before I was born?|
James OppenheimMorning and I.
|Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn|
And spangles deck the thorn.
John OKeefeTzar Peter. Act I. Sc. 4. (Originally bold for bright.)
| If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea.|
Psalms. CXXXIX. 9.
|At length the morn and cold indifference came.|
RoweFair Penitent. Act I. 1.
|Clothing the palpable and familiar|
With golden exhalations of the dawn.
SchillerThe Death of Wallenstein. Act V. Sc. 1. Coleridges trans.
|But with the morning cool reflection came.|
ScottHighland Widow. Introductory. Ch. IV.
|But with the morning cool repentance came.|
ScottRob Roy. Ch. XII.
|But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,|
Walks oer the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 166.
|The day begins to break, and night is fled,|
Whose pitchy mantle over-veild the earth.
Henry VI. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 1.
|See how the morning opes her golden gates,|
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimmd like a younker prancing to his love.
Henry VI. Pt. III. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 21.
| An hour before the worshippd sun|
Peerd from the golden window of the east.
Romeo and Juliet. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 125.
|The grey-eyd morn smiles on the frowning night,|
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light.
Romeo and Juliet. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 1.
|Nights candles are burnt out, and jocund day|
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
Romeo and Juliet. Act III. Sc. 5. L. 9.
|As when the golden sun salutes the morn,|
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistening coach.
Titus Andronicus. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 6.
| The busy day,|
Wakd by the lark, hath rousd the ribald crows,
And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer.
Troilus and Cressida. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 8.
|Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail!|
Rejoicd I see thy purple mantle spread
Oer half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way,
And orient pearls from evry shrub depend.
Wm. SomervilleThe Chase. Bk. II. L. 79.
|Now the frosty stars are gone:|
I have watched them one by one,
Fading on the shores of Dawn.
Round and full the glorious sun
Walks with level step the spray,
Through his vestibule of Day.
Bayard TaylorAnd in the Cloven Pine.
|And yonder fly his scattered golden arrows,|
And smite the hills with day.
Bayard TaylorThe Poets Journal. Third Evening. Morning.
|There in the windy flood of morning|
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.
|Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn,|
Draw forth the cheerful day from night;
O Father, touch the east, and light
The light that shone when Hope was born.
TennysonIn Memoriam. Pt. XXX.
|Morn in the white wake of the morning star|
Came furrowing all the orient into gold.
TennysonThe Princess. Pt. III. L. 1.
|The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of Dews.|
ThomsonSeasons. Summer. L. 47.
|The yellow fog came creeping down|
The bridges, till the houses walls
Seemed changed to shadows, and St. Pauls
Loomed like a bubble oer the town.
Oscar WildeImpression du Matin.
|And the fresh air of incense-breathing morn|
Shall wooingly embrace it.
WordsworthEcclesiastical Sonnets. XL.