THE BREAK O’ DAY

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 10, Issue 52, 20 November 1946, Page 2

THE BREAK O’ DAY

Oh Night, lovely Night, Thou art holy and calm, Thy soft dewy breath, To the worn brow is balm; The day with its heat, And o’er-laden with toil, Looks onward and upward, For the sweet smile, O Night; But when the dark curtains, Of night are softly withdrawn, By the rosy fingers, Welcome, beloved Dawn— There comes the clarion challenge, Of wakeful Chanticleer, And through the fragrant morning mist, Quaint objects appear, And the human family, Twixt sleeping and waking, With many a fantastic dream, Is somnolently leave taking; Modernistic dreams are oft Babel

schemes, Doomed like the famous tower of old, For selfish pride defeats itself, Be its ambition ne’er so bold; But what can be fairer than the dreams, Of which Holy writ doth tell? When with material things we’ve done, We go to where our loved ones dwell, To feel the touch of hands long still, And hear voices, and our hearts will fill With delight, at the break of perfect day, When sorrow and sighing shall flee away, And we shall know as we are known, Never more to walk alone. H. SERGANT.