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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Guido’s Aurora

By Thomas William Parsons (1819–1892)

[From The Shadow of the Obelisk, and Other Poems. 1872.]

FORTH from the arms of her beloved now,

Whitening the Orient steep, the Concubine

Of old Tithonus comes, her lucent brow

Glistening with gems, her fair hands filled with flowers,

That drop their violet odors on the brine,

While from her girdle pours a wealth of pearls

Round ocean’s rocks and every vessel’s prow

That cuts the laughing billow’s crested curls.

Behind her step the busy, sober Hours,

With much to do;—and they must move apace:

Wake up, Apollo! should the women stir,

And thou be lagging? Brighten up thy face!

(Those eyes of Phaëthon more brilliant were)

Hurry, dull God! Hyperion, to thy race!

Thy steeds are galloping, but thou seem’st slow:

Hesper, glad wretch, hath newly fed his torch,

And flies before thee, and the world cries, Go!

Light the dark woods, the dew-drenched mountain scorch!

Phœbus, Aurora calls, why linger so?