I. I Hear A Song The Wet Leaves Lisp When Morn Comes Down The Woodland Way; And Misty As A Thistle-Wisp Her Gown Gleams Windy Gray; A Song, That Seems To Say, "Awake! 'Tis Day!" I Hear A Sigh, When Day Sits Down Beside The Sunlight-Lulled Lagoon; While On Her Glistening Hair And Gown The Rose Of Rest Is Strewn; A Sigh, That Seems To Croon, "Come Sleep! 'Tis Noon!" I Hear A Whisper, When The Stars, Upon Some Evening-Purpled Height, Crown The Dead Day With Nenuphars Of Dreamy Gold And White; A Voice, That Seems T' Invite, "Come Love! 'Tis Night!" Ii. Before The Rathe Song-Sparrow Sings Among The Hawtrees In The Lane, And To The Wind The Locust Flings Its Early Clusters Fresh With Rain; Beyond The Morning-Star, That Swings Its Rose Of Fire Above The Spire, Between The Morning'S Watchet Wings, A Voice That Rings O'Er Brooks And Boughs "Arouse! Arouse!" Before The First Brown Owlet Cries Among The Grape-Vines On The Hill, And In The Dam With Half-Shut Eyes The Lilies Rock Above The Mill; Beyond The Oblong Moon, That Flies Its Pearly Flower Above The Tower, Between The Twilight'S Primrose Skies, A Voice That Sighs From East To West "To Rest! To Rest!"