A Treasury of Canadian Verse, with Brief Biographical Notes - Unknown

In thought I grasp the mystic word,

And lo! it hath no form.

I only know 'tis dark without,

And here 'tis light and warm.

COME, happy morn, serene and fair,

With outstretched hand, thy breath a prayer;

Come with thy faintly smiling eyes,

And brow whereon majestic rise