THERE is an hour, they say, <br />On which your dream has power: <br />Then all you wish for comes, <br />As comes the lost field-bird <br />Down to the island-lights; <br />There is an hour, they say, <br />That's woven with your wish: <br />In dawn, or dayli’ gone, <br />In mirk-dark, or at noon, <br />In hush or hum of day, <br />May be that secret hour. <br /> <br />A herd-boy in the rain <br />Who looked o'er stony fields; <br />A young man in a street, <br />When fife and drum went by, <br />Making the sunlight shrill; <br />A girl in a lane, <br />When the long June twilight <br />Made friendly far-off things, <br />Had watch upon the hour: <br />The dooms they met are in <br />The song my grand-dam sings.<br /><br />Padraic Colum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/legend-8/
