And if one falls asleep, through labour long, Why, what shall the divine awaking be? Surely no angry word; but some soft song Sung 'neath the casement,—as from summer tree The nightingales chant, loud and strenuously: Or as the thrushes, some wild day in spring, Hurl from dank copse to copse their stormy glee And make the wet surrounding meadows ring. If thou dost need awakening, I will bring My harp, and 'neath thy window sweep the chords, Or flutter o'er thy brow my vocal wing And gently lift thy tresses:—let the swords Of violent speech be snapped; and if @3I@1 miss The morn and sleep on,—wake me by a kiss! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY FOR AN ENEMY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET GIANT RED WOMAN by CLARENCE MAJOR THE VISION by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE SHAPE OF THE CORONER by WALLACE STEVENS THE LONELY HOUSE by EMILY DICKINSON LAST WORDS TO A DUMB FRIEND by THOMAS HARDY |