When the spring mornings grew more long <br />early I woke from dream that told <br />of dreaded parting and the cold <br />of the gray dawns when I should long <br />to see once more that clear light fall <br />upon my hands and know that near <br />the yellow meadows shone with dear <br />small flowers and hear thy laughter fall <br />— as now I long only to wake <br />once in that quiet shine of spring <br />and dream an hour the hour will bring <br />thy laughing call that bids me wake<br /><br />Christopher John Brennan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-the-spring-mornings-grew-more-long/
