Sunrise ~ by Frederick George Scott

Embracing the Unknown: What Frederick George Scott’s Sunrise Teaches Us About Starting Fresh

Every dawn delivers a blank slate, but how often do we greet the morning with wonder instead of routine?

Sunrise

Frederick George Scott

O rising Sun, so fair and gay,
What are you bringing me, I pray,
Of sorrow or of joy to-day?

You look as if you meant to please,
Reclining in your gorgeous ease
Behind the bare-branched apple-trees.

The world is rich and bright, as though
The pillows where your head is low
Had lit the fields of driven snow.

The hoar-frost on the window turns
Into a wood of giant ferns
Where some great conflagration burns.

And all my children comes again
As lightsome and as free from stain
As those frost-pictures on the pane.

I would that I could mount on high
And meet you, Sun–that you and I
Had to ourselves the whole wide sky.

But here my poor soul has to stay,
So tell me, rising Sun, I pray,
What are you bringing me to-day?

What shall this busy brain have thought,
What shall these hands and feet have wrought,
What sorrows shall the hours have brought,

Before thy brilliant course is run,
Before this new-born day is done,
Before you set, O rising Sun?

Source

Reflection

Frederick George Scott’s Sunrise captures the quiet threshold where human vulnerability meets the vast potential of a new dawn. Watching the morning light spill through frost-patterned glass, the speaker experiences a flash of child-like renewal before confronting the essential mystery of the hours ahead: Will today bring triumph, labor, or quiet sorrow?

In our modern rhythm—where days often begin with buzzing alarms, digital notifications, and predetermined to-do lists—we rarely pause to stand before the morning with Scott’s genuine sense of reverence. We rush to control our agendas, forgetting that every sunrise offers an unwritten slate.

Scott reminds us that uncertainty is not something to dread; it is the very space where meaning is forged. The sunlight dignifies our efforts, inviting us to treat our thoughts, labor, and emotional presence as conscious choices. Instead of letting routine dictate our hours, we can greet each dawn as an invitation to begin anew, choosing to invest our energy with clarity, curiosity, and intention.

As you read this poem, ask yourself:

When you look at the day ahead, are you merely bracing for what it might bring, or are you actively choosing what you will bring to it?