DAWN-ANGELS

ALL night I watched awake for morning,
At last the East grew all aflame,
The birds for welcome sang, or warning,
And with their singing morning came.

Along the gold-green heavens drifted

Pale wandering souls that shun the light, Whose cloudy pinions, torn and rifted,

Had beat the bars of Heaven all night.

These clustered round the moon, but higher
A troop of shining spirits went,
Who were not made of wind or fire,
But some divine dream-element.

Some held the Light, while those remaining
Shook out their harvest-colored wings,
A faint unusual music raining,

(Whose sound was Light) on earthly things.

Ah, what joy when Celia stands
By the leaping blaze at last,
Stooping down to warm her hands
All benumbèd with the blast,
While we hide her cloak away
To assure us she shall stay.

Cyder bring and cowslip wine,
Fruits and flavors from the East,
Pears and pippins too, and fine

Saffron loaves to make a feast: China dishes, silver cups,

For the board where Celia sups!

Then, when all the feasting's done,

She shall draw us round the blaze, Laugh, and tell us every one

Of her far triumphant days-
Celia, out of doors a star,
By the hearth a holier Lar!