THE FIRST HOUR OF MORNING. Ann Radcliffe (née Ward) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Radcliffe, Ann Ward, 1764-1823. The Poems of Mrs. Ann Radcliffe. London printed by and for J. Smith, Princes Street 1816 pp. 49-50. 118p. [Radcliffe's poems only, pp. 1-95]

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THE FIRST HOUR OF MORNING . How sweet to wind the forest's tangled shade , When early twilight , from the eastern bound , Dawns on the sleeping landscape in the glade , And fades as morning spreads her blush around ! When ev'ry infant flower , that wept in night , Lifts its chill head soft glowing with a tear , Expands its tender blossom to the light , And gives its incense to the genial air . How fresh the breeze that wafts the rich perfume ; And swells the melody of waking birds ; The hum of bees , beneath the verdant gloom , And woodman's song , and low of distant herds ! Then , doubtful gleams the mountain's hoary head , Seen through the parting foliage from afar ; And , farther still , the ocean's misty bed , With flitting sails , that partial sun-beams share . But , vain the sylvan shade — the breath of May , The voice of music floating on the gale , And forms that beam through morning's dewy veil , If health no longer bid the heart be gay ! O balmy hour ! 'tis thine her wealth to give , Here spread her blush , and bid the parent live !