html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }RIGHT shine the dewdrops at the dawning hour,
Sparkling with light each leaf and blade appears;
The sun ariseth, soon from bud and flower
Passeth the magic of those early tears:
Though, with its genial power,
Fast falleth the soft shower,
Or the fierce thunder torrent bursteth o'er the plain,
Yet the bright tear-gemmed smile,
That decked the morn awhile,
Through the long summer's day, can never come again.
And in life's dawn, though soon the tear may fall,
Yet Heaven's own sunshine sparkleth on its dew;
No after hours can drops like those recall,
No time the freshness of that morn renew;
Soon with the coming years
Shall rain the heavy tears
Of grief and disappointment, penitence and pain,
Yet blessed if they leave
A calm and tranquil eve,
A sun that setteth here, to rise more bright again.
E.