SCHOOL-ROOM POETRY. MORNING. Bowring. EXTINGUISHED now is the last lone star, "Tis he who opens the eastern gates, Who kindles the morning's ray; His Spirit all nature animates; And the darkness and the day, The light of hope and the smile of bliss, His temple is yonder arch sublime, He rides unseen on the hurrying storm; And their Sovereign's high behests fulfil He smiles, and new worlds spring forth to birth. He frowns, and darkness covers the earth, But oh! no mortal thought can soar HERE we, Earth-wanderers, Hasten with onward step And in our pilgrimage Should we not see All that is beautiful, Lovesome, and free? Should we with mourning heart Should we with sullen hand Should we in rambling Look but for pestilent Poisonous weeds? A hopeful, a jubilant, Look for the Flowers? In the far nooks of life, Where, amidst evil things, |