Sunrise Along Shore

Athwart the harbor lingers yet
The ashen gleam of breaking day,
And where the guardian cliffs are set   
The noiseless shadows steal away;

But all the winnowed eastern sky 
Is flushed with many a tender hue,   
And spears of light are smiting through 
The ranks where huddled sea-mists fly.

Across the ocean, wan and gray,   
Gay fleets of golden ripples come, 
For at the birth-hour of the day   
The roistering, wayward winds are dumb.

The rocks that stretch to meet the tide   
Are smitten with a ruddy glow,   
And faint reflections come and go 
Where fishing boats at anchor ride.

All life leaps out to greet the light—   
The shining sea-gulls dive and soar, 
The swallows whirl in dizzy flight,   
And sandpeeps flit along the shore.

From every purple landward hill   
The banners of the morning fly,   
But on the headlands, dim and high, 
The fishing hamlets slumber still.

One boat alone beyond the bar   
Is sailing outward blithe and free, 
To carry sturdy hearts afar   
Across those wastes of sparkling sea;

Staunchly to seek what may be won   
From out the treasures of the deep,   
To toil for those at home who sleep 
And be the first to greet the sun.