Explore "Songs" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Not that young Joy who looked with laughing eyes, / That jocund sprite with open, idle fingers / Stretched to the dawn, the dawn whose gold light lingers / Across the far blue hills of Paradise.
Not that young Joy, but one courageous, calm, / Who -- passed beyond the quiet morning meadows / Beyond the dawn of life's delicious shadows -- / Holds the great sun and moon in either palm.