Edward Rowland Sill (Эдвард Роулэнд Силл)
At Dawn
I LAY awake and listened, ere the light Began to whiten at the window pane. The world was all asleep: earth was a fane Emptied of worshippers; its dome of night, Its silent aisles, were awful in their gloom. Suddenly from the tower the bell struck four, Solemn and slow, how slow and solemn! o'er Those death-like slumberers, each within his room. The last reverberation pulsed so long It seemed no tone of earthly mould at all. But the bell woke a thrush; and with a call He roused his mate, then poured a tide of song: "Morning is coming, fresh, and clear, and blue," Said that bright song; and then I thought of you. An Adage From The Orient AT the punch-bowl's brink, Let the thirsty think What they say in Japan: "First the man takes a drink, Then the drink takes a drink, Then the drink takes the man!"
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