@2I@1 FELT a breeze blowing upon my brow, Beside the open window as I lay, And dreamed it whispered: "Lo, the dawning day! Awaken! for the winds are waking now." A bird sang dimly from her swaying bough, And in my dream I struggled to obey The breeze and bird, and joy even as they In the broad Sun,—and woke, I knew not how. About my heart, too, hovers a waiting wind: I would my heart would waken, but it seems Stubbornly sleeping, careless of any cry; I know it is not cruel or unkind,— Yet if it rouse not from insensate dreams, How may it hope for morning? It must die. |