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Poem by Isaac Rosenberg


Dawn


O tender first cold flush of rose,
O budded dawn, wake dreamily ;
Your dim lips as your lids unclose
Murmur your own sad threnody.
0 as the soft and frail lights break
Upon your eyelids, and your eyes
Wider and wider grow and wake,
The old pale glory dies.

And then, as sleep lies down to sleep
And all her dreams lie somewhere dead,
The iron shepherd leads his sheep
To pastures parched whose green is shed.
Still, 0 frail dawn, still in your hair
And your cold eyes and sad sweet lips,
The ghosts of all the dreams are them,
To fade like passing ships. 



                      Isaac Rosenberg


Isaac Rosenberg's other poems:
  1. Home-Thoughts From France
  2. The Blind God
  3. Dead Man's Dump
  4. In Piccadi
  5. In the Trenches


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Rupert Brooke Dawn ("Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat")
  • Arthur Symons Dawn ("Here in the little room")
  • Francis Ledwidge Dawn ("Quiet miles of golden sky")
  • John Ford Dawn ("FLY hence, shadows, that do keep")

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