THE MORNING IN SUMMER.--THOMPSON.

Short is the doubtful empire of the night;

And soon, observant of approaching day,

The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dews,

At first, faint gleaming in the dappled east,

Till far o'er ether spreads the wid'ning glow,

And from before the lustre of her face

White break the clouds away.