How clear, how lovely bright,
How beautiful to sight
Those beams of morning play;
How heaven laughs out with glee
Where, like a bird set free,
Up from the eastern sea
Soars the delightful day.

To-day I shall be strong,
No more shall yield to wrong,
Shall squander life no more;
Days lost, I know not how,
I shall retrieve them now;
Now I shall keep the vow I never kept before.

Ensanguining the skies
How heavily it dies
Into the west away;
Past touch and sight and sound
Not further to be found,
How hopeless under ground
Falls the remorseful day.


Dave said...

There was a hint of sky-blue-pink here today.

I, like the view said...

how lovely for you!

good morning dave

Gordie said...

The sky over me is milky white and filled with chattering birds. Have good days, nice people.

Mel said...

And our sky was brilliant blue at the start--and murky gray at the end....

And the eagles are back--yesterday they were having a reunion near the gravel pit. Better than a hundred, I'd wager.
Dangit that I didn't have my camera on me....
Ah well--there'll be another opportunity. And some things you're not suppose to capture.

Steg said...

I love Housman, despite his melancholy. Or maybe because of it....

I, like the view said...

steg melancholy is very under-rated in this modern "gotta be happy" age. . . (and I keep hearing/reading other people saying that!)

that is so true mel - somethings just are at the time, whether they are captured for later on or not (mind you, I'd like to see those eagles!)

while you're asking Himself about Rebecca, ask if he ever watched Morse. . . (which was on ITV)

Mig said...

Quite a wry little poem? Gorgeous pictures anyway.
I agree, being happy all the time must be so exhausting - and ...I'm trying to picture a life without ups and downs. It just doesn't work.