Yet now the dawning seems to streak the east,
All things are stirring, slumberers awake,
And watchers peer into the rising day!
Thus much in passing! Ere we enter in
That antique Hall, more fully to attain
A knowledge of its owner, all whose acts
Are works of goodness, and whose pure life breathes
The spirit of rich charity: We’ll trace
A ready path across yon meadow-field,
To where, in solitude and calm repose,