Classic Poem

Sound asleep: no sound can reach
Him who dreams the heavenly dream;
No tomorrow's silver speech
Wake him with an earthly theme.
Summer rains relentlessly
Patter where his head doth lie;
There the wild fern and the brake
All their summer leisure take.
Violets blinded with the dew,
Perfume lend to the sad rue,
Till the Day break, fair and dear,
And no shadow doth appear.