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.

Ammon Wrigley - "At the Rising of the Sun"

Categories

Poetry
This page was last modified on 16 August 2018 and has been edited by Dave Pattern.

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