The soft-toned clock upon the stair chimed three―
Too sweet for sleep, too early yet to rise.
In restful peace I lay with half-closed eyes,
Watching the tender hours go dreamily;
The tide was flowing in; I heard the sea
Shivering along the sands; while yet the skies
Were dim, uncertain, as the light that lies
Beneath the fretwork of some wild-rose tree
Within the thicket gray. The chanticleer
Sent drowsy calls across the slumberous air;
In solemn silence sweet was it to hear
My own heart beat . . . Then broad and deep and fair―
Trembling in its new birth from heaven’s womb―
One crimson shaft of dawn sank thro’ my room.
Reprinted as “Dawn on Puget Sound” in the Overland Monthly (April 1890, vol. 15 page 422).
Below is “Dawn” as it appeared in Higginson’s When the Birds Go North Again (1898).
Below is “Dawn” as it appeared in Higginson’s The Voice of April-Land (1903).
