From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, <br />From love's deep slumber and from death, <br />For lo! the treees are full of sighs <br />Whose leaves the morn admonisheth. <br /> <br />Eastward the gradual dawn prevails <br />Where softly-burning fires appear, <br />Making to tremble all those veils <br />Of grey and golden gossamer. <br /> <br />While sweetly, gently, secretly, <br />The flowery bells of morn are stirred <br />And the wise choirs of faery <br />Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.<br /><br />James Joyce<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-dewy-dreams/
