Morning

MORNING

BY HAROUTUNE TOUMANIAN

DAY dawned. Bright tongues of scarlet flame
Shot up into the sky,
The livid heav’ns blushed, and became
A sea of crimson dye.

The sun his fiery beams unrolled
Like strands of coloured thread;
Embroidered all the clouds with gold,
And blue, and green, and red.

Then o’er the mountain, full in view,
Nature's great Monarch rose:
And from his tent of Royal blue
Hurled darts upon his foes.

Eternal foe of Gloom and Night,
On high he raised his arm;
His shield of gold, all shining bright,
Sheltered the world from harm.