The light of dawn rose on my dreams, And from afar I seemed to hear In sleep the mellow blackbird call, Hollow and sweet and clear. I pray thee, Mother, my casement open wide, Wildly the garden peals with singing, And hooting through the dewy pines The goblins all are winging. Oh listen the droning of the bees, That in the roses take delight! And see a cloud stays in the blue Like an angel still and bright. The gentle sky is spread, spread just like silk, And, Mother, the moon doth languish there, As if it were a perfect jewel In the morning’s soft-spun hair. The greyness of the distant hills Is silvered in the lucid East See, now the sheeny-plumed bird Wags haughtily his crest. ‘O come you out, O come you out, Lily, and lavender, and lime; The kingcup swings his golden bell, And plumpy cherries drum the time. ‘O come you out, O come you out! Roses, and dew, and mignonette, The sun is in the steep blue sky, Sweetly the morning star is set, Sweetly the morning star is set.~ The Child in the Story Awakes, by Walter de la Mare (1902)
Posted on: Sun, 30 Mar 2014 00:34:44 +0000
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