Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/59

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Here in the moon-blanched pasture wide and silent
    With no voice waking and no foot astir
Save mine, the lovely sleeping night surrounds me
    And naught is real save the thought of her.

And yet the plain will wake to green and golden
    Within a few still hours; a breath will pass
Crisping the mirror-surface of the water;
    The larks will start up from the dewy grass;

The proud far sky will smile and grow more kindly;
    The gauzy wisps of cloud that float in it—
The small pale frightened clouds that cast no shadow
    Since they dim not the starshine as they flit—

Will mass to eastward like a host with banners,
    Dawn's dazzling banners streaming out unfurled
Above the dayspring's golden fountain welling
    Up from beneath the dark rim of the world.