With restless searching are the nightwinds spent,
A solitary bird pipes lovenotes lorn,
Portent of life new wakening with the morn;
Long lines of flaring lamps still burn their stent,
With gloom upon the city’s bosom blent;
But ’bove the dark threat of a cloud low drawn,
White as a wraith, pale glows God’s holy dawn,
The morning star her brightest ornament.
As gathering splendor floods the world with light,
The whilom watcher sleeps, forgetting grief;
And though ’neath fuming smoke, ’mid roll of wheels,
The sordid city wakes her giant might
Lustful of gain, her deepest heart yet feels
The benediction of that vision brief.