The days without dawns are passing

The days without dawns are passing,

I’m losing them when I see dreams,

So dull, obscure and depressing,

As shimmer dies on window-pane.

My boyhood, morning I recall,

A cheery primal break of day:

As if the sun would fire skies, -

Rainbow’s splendor of bouquet.

Will it be such as in the past –

A glorious rainbowy dawn?

Can our feelings pass the test

And thereby to heart attest?

And I believed then for first time

In your most loving tender gaze

Which gave its ultimate response:

We shall be meeting many dawns.