Have you ever raised a curtain at dawn,
When serenity is the captain of the morn:
And all nature seems reverently bent
Proclaiming sunbeam splendor, a new born?
Even more, consider the curtains deep within,
That shades the ricketiness of the soul,
One glance at dawn's awakening blend,
Spirals the curtain as a scroll.
The robins takes their mystic flight,
Thus, claims a spot in open air,
And oh, how beauty does explode,
And oh, how beauty does explode,
In the dawning and the soul,
In the dawning and the soul.