They sleep within. . . . <br />I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. <br />High and cold thou dreamest, O queen, high-dreaming and lonely. <br /> <br />We have slept too long, who can hardly win <br />The white one flame, and the night-long crying; <br />The viewless passers; the world's low sighing <br />With desire, with yearning, <br />To the fire unburning, <br />To the heatless fire, to the flameless ecstasy! . . . <br /> <br />Helpless I lie. <br />And around me the feet of thy watchers tread. <br />There is a rumour and a radiance of wings above my head, <br />An intolerable radiance of wings. . . . <br /> <br />All the earth grows fire, <br />White lips of desire <br />Brushing cool on the forehead, croon slumbrous things. <br />Earth fades; and the air is thrilled with ways, <br />Dewy paths full of comfort. And radiant bands, <br /> <br />The gracious presence of friendly hands, <br />Help the blind one, the glad one, who stumbles and strays, <br />Stretching wavering hands, up, up, through the praise <br /> <br />Of a myriad silver trumpets, through cries, <br />To all glory, to all gladness, to the infinite height, <br />To the gracious, the unmoving, the mother eyes, <br />And the laughter, and the lips, of light.<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sleeping-out-full-moon/
