Dawns of the world, how I have known you all, <br />so many, and so varied, and the same! <br />dawns o'er the timid plains, or in the folds <br />of the arm'd hills, or by the unsleeping shore; <br />a chill touch on the chill flesh of the dark <br />that, shuddering, shrinks from its couch, and leaves <br />a homeless light, staring, disconsolate, <br />on the drear world it knows too well, the world <br />it fled and finds again, its wistful hope <br />unmet by any miracle of night, <br />that mocks it rather, with its shreds that hang <br />about the woods and huddled bulks of gloom <br />that crouch, malicious, in the broken combes, <br />witness to foulnesses else unreveal'd <br />that visit earth and violate her dreams <br />in the lone hours when only evil wakes.<br /><br />Christopher John Brennan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dawns-of-the-world-how-i-have-known-you-all/
