Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By AnnieFields

592 On Waking from a Dreamless Sleep

I WAKED; the sun was in the sky,

The face of heaven was fair;

The silence all about me lay,

Of morning in the air.

I said, Where hast thou been, my soul,

Since the moon set in the west?

I know not where thy feet have trod,

Nor what has been thy quest.

Where wast thou when Orion past

Below the dark-blue sea?

His glittering, silent stars are gone,—

Didst follow them for me?

Where wast thou in that awful hour

When first the night-wind heard

The faint breath of the coming dawn,

And fled before the word?

Where hast thou been, my spirit,

Since the long wave on the shore

Tenderly rocked my sense asleep,

And I heard thee no more?

My limbs like breathing marble

Have lain in the warm down;

No heavenly chant, no earthly care,

Have stirred a smile or frown.

I wake; thy kiss is on my lips;

Thou art my day, my sun!

But where, O spirit, where wast thou

While the sands of night have run?