POETRY.
A SUNRISE.
Immix in the East : not, as on common days, A gradual flush of orange, pink, or gold ; But surge on crimson surge in the night skies, A tidal-wave of wild, oncoming fire.
Now, surely now the goal is all but won, The secret stormed, the veil imperilled, rent ?
Some greater glory than the day impends?
Not dawn alone but heaven breaks on our eight?
0 sudden longing towards an unknown god ! 0 imminent boon and hope without a name I What is this word that hovers on 'the tongue, This revelation on the brink of being ? Strange and yet not strange to US. As a child Syllables some soft language at the knee Of his young alien mother, and forgets— Wholly forgets with passing years her speech I Yet thrills to that old softness suddenly heard As though, a man, he understood it still : So the heart leaps to greet that royal sky, So, fearless, runs to claim that burning rose ; By instinct still responsive to some bliss Forgotten though familiar, dim but dear, Lost, lost, yet ours by love, by heritage— Eternity on bright Eternity 1
V. H. FILIEDLAPINDNER.
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