Dawn in the Forest

The pallid moon is waning, the stars are veiled in grey;

A rustle stirs the forest, then, sighing, dies away.

The first faint flush of the sunrise is spread in the eastern sky.

For night has gone, and a blackbird's song is echoed up on high.

Then, with a soundless clamour the sleeping forest wakes,

And the beauty of the breaking dawn is mirrored in its lakes.

Dewdrops turn to rubies as the ragged clouds unfold,

And the shrouded peaks of the distant hills are changed to towers of gold.