Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | November 16, 2008

POEM OF THE DAY: New York at Sunrise

by Anna Hempstead Branch (1875 – 1937).



New York at Sunrise


When with her clouds the early dawn illumes

Our doubtful streets, wistful they grow and mild

As if a sleeping soul grew happy and smiled,

The whole dark city radiantly blooms.

Pale spires lift their hands above the glooms                       5

Like a resurrection, delicately wild,

And flushed with slumber like a little child,

Under a mist, shines forth the innocent Tombs.

Thus have I seen it from a casement high.

As unsubstantial as a dream it grows.                                  10

Is this Manhattan, virginal and shy,

That in a cloud so rapturously glows?

Ethereal, frail, and like an opening rose,

I see my city with an enlightened eye.



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