HOW THE MORNING COMES.
Reading edition
Cheery, cheery, Out of the dreary Dark there glows A tint of yellow, a purple gleam, A shine of silver, a brazen beam, A flush of rose; The darkness, meanwhile, flying, gone: Thus does the morning dawn. Creeping, creeping, Daintily peeping, Hastes the light Through the window to see where lies The little girl with the sleepy eyes; Glistens bright With very joy to find the place Where lies her dreaming face. Drowsy, drowsy, A little frowzy Gold-locked head Turns on its pillow, yawns, and winks; Lifts from its pillow, peeps, and blinks; Turns in bed; Then with a slow, reluctant shake, Is almost wide awake.
Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.
