Ammon Wrigley - "At the Rising of the Sun"
The following is a transcription of a work by Saddleworth poet Ammon Wrigley (1861-1946).
At the Rising of the Sun
- Climbing the fields to the moor height,
- I saw the stars flee with the night,
- At the rising of the sun:
- A new born day is joy to see,
- Like all young things it is to me
- The fairest in its infancy,
- At the rising of the sun.
- A frolic wind begins to sing,
- As it comes leaping o’er the ling;
- At the rising of the sun;
- And in the moor grass brown and deep,
- The little things that fly or creep,
- Turn in their beds and wake from sleep,
- At the rising of the sun.
- The birds awake the curlews rise,
- And soaring cleave the golden skies;
- At the rising of the sun:
- And on the knolls as I draw near
- The moorcocks calling loud and clear,
- G-bak! G-bak! The morn is here,
- At the rising of the sun:
- Oh happy morns when day begins,
- Far from the town and all its sins,
- At the rising of the sun:
- From squalid slum and drab main street,
- From noise of wheels and tramp of feet,
- And you so clean and fresh and sweet,
- At the rising of the sun.