O now the crimson east its fire streak burning
Tempts me to wander neath the blushing morn
Winding the zig zag lane turning & turning
As winds the crooked fences wilderd thorn
O wheres the eye can gaze upon the dawn
That flushes yon blue sky of cloudless heaven
& gilds the prospect round below—what eye
Can look upon the beautys morn has given
& look unmovd, sure neer a soul thats living
The soul must be extinct who passes bye
I cannot pass the very bramble weeping
Neath dewy tear drops that its spears surround
Like harlots mockery on the wan cheek creeping
Gilding the poison that is meant to wound
I cannot pass the bent ere gales have shaken
Its transient crowning off each point adorning
But all the feelings of my soul awaken
To own the witcheries of most lovley morning
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