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Thy dawn, O Master of the world, thy dawn The hour the lilies open on the lawn, The hour the grey wings pass beyond the mountains, The hour that dreams are brighter and winds colder' The hour that young love wakes on a white shoulder. O master of the world, the Persian dawn. That hour, O Master, shall be bright for thee: Thy merchants chase the morning down the sea, The braves who fight thy war unsheathe the sabre, The slaves who work thy mines are lashed to labour, For thee the wagons of the world are drawn - The ebony of night, the red of dawn! James Elroy Flecker |
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