Classic Poem

I

Now in the East, pale sleeping fairies weave
Of dreams the wan grey gossamer of dawn,
And lay it on your hair — so fair, so fair
You sleep — and yet, the shadowy dancers leave,
The swaying phantoms one by one are gone,
The deathless music fades on breathless air.

II

Wake! All the earth is singing to the sky,
Touch with your eyes the tapers of the morn,
Day rises from the arms of Night. Star-spun,
White roses lift against your balcony
Strange flower-fire. On wings of song up-borne,
The swift lark soars to beat against the sun.