Promise

4 0 00

Promise

Through the moil and the gloom they have issued

To the steps of the upwinding hill,

Where the sweet, dulcet pipes of tomorrow

In their preluding rhapsodies trill.

With a thud comes a stir in the bosom,

As there steals on the sight from afar,

Through a break of a cloud’s coiling shadow

The gleam of a bright morning star!