Before my senses or my soul awake, br Sorrow begins to stir within my heart; br Keen anguish dawns before the day doth break; br Ere fluttering birds chirp faintly towards the east, br A bat-like terror flaps above my breast br With a shrill cry that sleeping makes me start, br And moan with unclosed lips, in drear dismay, br Reluctant greeting to another day; br And though perchance through pity of the night br I have not dreamt of misery, but have slept, br Tears stand within my eyes before the light br Smites them with its new beams, — cold tears unwept, br That from their brimming fountain up have crept, br In which the morning rounds her rainbows bright.