Asleep
LIDS closed and pale, with parted lips she lay;
Black on white pillows spread her hair unbound.
Awake, I watched her sleeping face, and found
Its beauty perfect in the breaking day.
Ah, then I knew that Love had passed away;
Alas! though with the entering sun that crowned
With light the beauty that mine arms enwound,
Came too the morning music of the bay.
I wept that Love had been and was no more,
That never shower nor sunlight should restore
The love that gave her life and heart to me;
While radiant in the outburst of the dawn,
Fresh as the wind that swept the mountain lawn,
Green April wantoned on the noisy sea.
Theodore Wratislaw.