As on my bed at dawn I mused and prayed, <br />I saw my lattice prankt upon the wall, <br />The flaunting leaves and flitting birds withal-- <br />A sunny phantom interlaced with shade; <br />'Thanks be to Heaven,' in happy mood I said, <br />'What sweeter aid my matins could befall <br />Than this fair glory from the east hath made? <br />What holy sleights hath God, the Lord of all, <br />To bid us feel and see! We are not free <br />To say we see not, for the glory comes <br />Nightly and daily, like the flowing sea; <br />His lustre pierces through the midnight glooms, <br />And at prime hours, behold! he follows me <br />With golden shadows to my secret rooms.'<br /><br />Charles Tennyson Turner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunrise-67/
