'Tis near the morning watch, the dim lamp burns <br />But scarcely shows how dark the slumbering street; <br />No sound of life the silent mart returns; <br />No friends from house to house their neighbors greet; <br />It is the sleep of death; a deeper sleep <br />Than e'er before on mortal eyelids fell; <br />No stars above the gloom their places keep; <br />No faithful watchmen of the morning tell; <br />Yet still they slumber on, though rising day <br />Hath through their windows poured the awakening light; <br />Or, turning in their sluggard trances, say— <br />'There yet are many hours to fill the night;' <br />They rise not yet; while on the bridegroom goes <br />'Till he the day's bright gates forever on them close!<br /><br />Jones Very<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-morning-watch-2/
