My Cart 


At Dawn
Virna Sheard


Turn to thy window in the silver hour
  That day comes stepping down the hills of night,
Infolded as the leaves infold a flower
  By all her rose-leaf robes of misty light.
Then, like a joy born out of blackest sorrow,
  The miracle of morning seems to say,
"There is no night without its dear to-morrow,
  No lonely dark that does not find the day."

This poem is in the public domain.

Virna Sheard (1862 - 1943) was a Canadian poet and novelist. She often used nature as a theme for her work.




Post New Comment:
...that day comes stepping down the hills of regal an image I get from this. Also, Joy born out of blackest sorrow so true.
Posted 01/10/2019 11:19 AM
I now await the dawn.
Posted 01/10/2019 08:31 AM
This one brought tears, Jayne. Wonderful choice for any of us who are struggling.
Posted 01/10/2019 07:54 AM
How lovely....
Posted 01/10/2019 07:52 AM
Beautifully put!
Posted 01/10/2019 07:44 AM
Joy born out of blackest lovely.
Posted 01/10/2019 07:34 AM

Contents of this web site and all original text and images therein are copyright © by Your Daily Poem. All rights reserved.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Purchasing books through any poet's Amazon links helps to support Your Daily Poem.
The material on this site may not be copied, reproduced, downloaded, distributed, transmitted, stored, altered, adapted,
or otherwise used in any way without the express written permission of the owner.