And hurried landward far away.
Crying, "Awake, it is the day."
It said unto the forest, "Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out."
It touched the wood-bird's folded wing,
And said, "O Bird, awake and sing."
And o'er the farms, "O Chanticleer,
Your clarion blow, the day is near."
It whispered to the fields of corn,
"Bow down and hail the coming morn."
It shouted through the belfry tower,
"Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour."
It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,
And said, "not yet! in quiet lie."
Words fail to describe the exhilarating effect of the morning
air, the marvelous beauty of the vast expanse of sea and sky
seen through the luminous trembling haze, or the vines, flowers
and shrubs that grow with wonderful luxuriance, which in many
places presented an almost tropical aspect. If we add to this
the most startling contrasts and picturesque details with a
delightful breeze blowing over all you have still but a faint
idea of the picture.
How bright the morning was! "The leaves were newly washed, every
flower refreshed, their colors. flashing with brighter tints
like new dyes just put on." How pure the air was made! There was
no contamination by smoke or dust and the very breeze came like
a tonic, and we breathed deeply and thanked the Creator for each
potent draught.
