< A Spring Harvest
AWAKENING
Gold-crested towers against the veilèd skies,
Sere branches of the winter trees beneath,
And a low song, and heavy-lidded eyes;
Sere branches of the winter trees beneath,
And a low song, and heavy-lidded eyes;
Is there aught else in all the world beside?
Is not time stilled and ended in this hour?
.....
Up, and away! the belted squadrons ride!
Is not time stilled and ended in this hour?
.....
Up, and away! the belted squadrons ride!
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