From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love's deep slumber and from death, For lo! the trees are full of sighs Whose leaves the morn admonisheth. Eastward the gradual dawn prevails Where softly-burning fires appear, Making to tremble all those veils Of grey and golden gossamer. While sweetly, gently, secretly, The flowery bells of morn are stirred And the wise choirs of faery Begin (innumerous!) to be heard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN HONOR OF TAFFY TOPAZ by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON CHANNING by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT A PASTORAL ECLOGUE UPON THE DEATH OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY KNIGHT by LODOWICK BRYSKETT THE RENEGADE; JOHN PAUL JONES by NATHALIA CRANE DE PAPINEAU GUN - AN INCIDENT OF THE CANADIAN REBELLION,1837 by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |