At Dawn she lay with her profile at that angle
Which, when she sleeps, seems the carved face of an angel.
Her hair a harp, the hand of a breeze follows
And plays, against the white cloud of the pillows.
Then, in a flush of rose, she woke, and her eyes that opened
Swam in blue through her rose flesh that dawned.
From her dew of lips, the drop of one word
Fell like the first of fountains: murmured
'Darling', upon my ears the song of the first bird.
'My dream becomes my dream,' she said, 'come true.
I waken from you to my dream of you.'
Oh, my own wakened dream then dared assume
The audacity of her sleep. Our dreams
Poured into each other's arms, like streams.
Stephen Spender's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Daybreak by Stephen Spender )
- Inspired By Some Lines of Psalm 119, Dr John Celes
- Fast Sunday, Von Kimball Barney
- Twinkle Twinle little star - 1, ramesh rai
- आं खोनायाखै, Ronjoy Brahma
- आं बावबाय, Ronjoy Brahma
- COPLA 112 RESOLUTION: This Bad Guy World, T (no first name) Wignesan
- Birch and Bracken, jim hogg
- History Echoed As A Verse, Ruma Chaudhuri
- Aku dan Februari, Afit Riawan
- Kisah Bunga, Afit Riawan
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