Sleep hath composed the anguish of my brain, And ere the dawn I will arise and pray. Strengthen me, Heaven, and attune my lay Unto my better angel's clear refrain. For I can hear him in the night again, The breathless night, snow-smothered, happy, grey, With premonition of the jocund day, Singing a quiet carol to my pain. Slowly, saith he, the April buds are growing In the chill core of twigs all leafless now; Gently, beneath the weight of last night's snowing, Patient of winter's hand, the branches bow. Each buried seed lacks light as much as thou. Wait for the spring, brave heart; there is no knowing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CREATION (A NEGRO SERMON) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SONG OF FIONNUALA by THOMAS MOORE THE BROOK; AN IDYL: THE BROOK'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON ABBEY ASAROE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE JUDGMENT by KATHARINE LEE BATES A DAY REMORSEFUL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 24 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |