The trees, all dripping since the tardy dawn
With dewy raindrops fathered in the night,
Half shuddered, shedding on the mossy lawn
Their drops of light.
The many branches seen against the sky
(That rain-dark grey against the unclouding blue!),
That forest multitude which stretched on high,
Made earth seem new.
And we two wandering 'midst the craven trees,
Together close, my arm about you thrown,
Our eyes made dreamy by the rain-wet breeze —
We felt alone.
The world was maddened by some subtile sting;
Some last resistance to supreme despair
Crushing to life each gently slumbering thing
Which languished there.
Our spirits, drowsy in their fleshly tomb,
Half rose to life, and half they seemed to know
The wonders which from Nature's mighty womb
Were soon to grow;
Half knew where, in the vast abyss of time,
Their past had been, and what their name and place;
Their monstrous deeds; — where sung in buried rhyme
Their primal grace.
The naked boughs which hung a-quivering there,
Which shrank with fear through all their vague delight,
Were yet compelled to yield, compelled to bear,
By Nature's might.
Our souls, however, seemed like things apart;
They turned again, for not yet was the dawn.
Desire, the Spring sent quivering through the heart, —
The soul slept on.
