Deep-furrowed like a brow in mourning
The dark has held me fast and tight
While majestic beings ponder
And deliberate my mortal plight.
But now starry conferences adjourning
Dispersing with the ebb of night
At once the firmament is cleft asunder
By the angel of the morning light.
And on new born pinions of the morning
Colours soft and subtly alight
On sculpted masses far and yonder
Immense and looming in my line of sight.
And in gentle rose and gold adorning
In pastel raiments weft of light
Sewn with streaming seams of wonder
The snow-capped peaks and heights.