IN the last heavy days ere the mowing-grass seeded We woke before dawn in the loft of the mill; When sleep gave us all things no waking was needed, And long we lay motionless, sleep to distil: But ever we heard the worn corn-crake that woke us, And the stream far below never gurgled nor shook us With a coolness of darkness, and breath nigh forsook us; In that heat of unseenness we lay without will. Ah, then, when the pulses of life were the lowest, And the hope of the future seemed darkness -- no more -- We turned to each other and whispered "Thou knowest The hope of the past that is restful and sure." When we thought a thin wind moved the leaves of the cherry, That clustered the wide-open casement to bury, We remembered some nest-bird crouched sleepless and weary: And the corn-crake creaked ever and over and o'er. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITY VIGNETTE: DAWN by SARA TEASDALE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |