Dream footsteps wandering past us in our sleep...

Dream footsteps wandering past us in our sleep,

A restless presence stirring with the light,

The cry of waters where the snow was white,

A violet's whisper where dead leaves lay deep;

The dim wood's music makes a sudden leap,

Broken notes, blending in a wild delight,

And lo! the whole world changes in our sight.

Promise is ended — we must turn and reap

Fulfilment, for the Spring with all her wealth

Is with us, and compels us to her will.

Yet if the sun-dawn we should shun by stealth

Yearning for shadows and the darkened hours,

Sweet Lord, be pitiful, remembering still

One lieth low beneath the budding flowers.