73 



Here has been no night only a clear, white 

 shining. Yet the new day shall rise in 

 power, and fling lavish golden largess down 

 on the teeming earth; shall give and take 

 away for sunlight and waking breeze, the 

 dew, the stillness, the clinging breath of 

 flowers. Even now a faint air stirs. A 

 pink east blushes to scorn a paling west. 

 All the sweet birds wake to singing. The 

 east glows bright and brighter. The great 

 sun leaps to view, and clasps and shelters 

 in his arms of light the laggard moon o' 

 May. 



