New Morning Coming

A flying cloud
In sunshine high
Above the peaceful crowd
Of an open sky
Each day a graceful turn
With patterns of scene
Much secretive burn
Of hours there between

A cat's eye
Insipid moon
Up in the far and high
Like always there was noon
In desolate bluish night
Of tranquil morning in
Or stillness fainting sight
Like goose-flesh naked skin

Changing fire's amber
Consuming the misty air
Through heavens blaze chamber
That now's coming fair
Its sweetest glow
From up and everywhere
These hours in their go
From the rising of mist in glare