To Miranda, Who Sleeps

iwdlui, (loar heart, n wake! Thou hast lept well! The dawning llght hath set the world aetir With chirp and warble of birds and fairy whir Of winglots, quivering in tho broken spell That sleep had laid on nature. Strange to teil, Miranda sleepeth yet. Strange. for it were A wonder If the delicate ear of her Knew not this multitudinou roatin bcll. Tet sleepa Miranda still! What wus to meet In drenmland, what r whora for thee to üe Unminrlful of the glory of earth and sky, With Uttle quiot hands and quiet feeti And still thou xloepcst, and thy sleep ia sweet. . Dear heart, I would not waken thee, not I.