Sunrise on the Coast

Grey dawn on the sand-hills — the night wind has drifted

All night from the rollers a scent of the sea;

With the dawn the grey fog his battalions has lifted,

At the call of the morning they scatter and flee.

Like mariners calling the roll of their number

The sea-fowl put out to the infinite deep.

And far over-head — sinking softly to slumber —

Worn out by their watching, the stars fall asleep.

To eastward, where resteth the dome of the skies on

The sea-line, stirs softly the curtain of night;

And far from behind the enshrouded horizon

Comes the voice of a God saying “Let there be light.”

And lo, there is light! Evanescent and tender,

It glows ruby-red where‘ twas now ashen-grey;

And purple and scarlet and gold in its splendour —

Behold,‘ tis that marvel, the birth of a day!