Dawn of Day (borrowing a line and stanza form from the 19th century French poet Gouffe)

The dawn of day
Strikes up fire on towers high,
On higher jets that trail away
With passengers that none can stay,
For joy comes charging down the sky
With dawn of day!

The dawn of day
Sees plumy steam from fact’ries rise
And billow out in clouds so gay
Each walker down below can say,
“My working life is Paradise
At dawn of day!”

The dawn of day
Makes children’s feet to trip and skip
As off to school-ish holiday
They gladly yearn to learn their way
With shiny gleam on cheek and lip
At dawn of day.

The dawn of day
Has touched my lovely balcony,
Where sparrows flit and cheep and play,
And window-washers “cross the way
Seem waving morning “Hi’s” to me
At dawn of day!

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