IF one should wake one's frozen faith <br />In sunlight of her radiant eyes, <br />Bid it forget its dream of death, <br />In this new dream of Paradise, <br />Bid it forget the long, slow pain, <br />The agony when, all in vain, <br />It fought for life, and how one swore, <br />Once cold, it should not waken more; <br /> <br /> <br />If hope one buried long ago <br />Should thrill beneath those smiles of hers, <br />Should in one's sere life stir and grow, <br />As in brown woods the young spring stirs; <br />If, breaking icy bonds of grief, <br />One's soul should start to bud and leaf, <br />It might forget in that springtide <br />How last year's leaves fell off and died. <br /> <br />If from warm faith and hope set high <br />A lovely living child was born, <br />With lips more pure than starlit sky, <br />And eyes as clear as summer morn, <br />Child-love might grow till one forgot <br />Old love, that was and now is not-- <br />Forgot that far-off time of tears, <br />And all these desolated years. <br /> <br /> <br />And yet of faith, hope, love, one knows <br />So well what end the years will make, <br />If one should dig beneath Time's snows <br />And wake them now for her sweet sake. <br />New life may mean new joy; but then, <br />What lives again may die again, <br />And to that second death there may <br />Be no new resurrection-day.<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/quieta-ne-movete-ii/
