John Le Gay Brereton (2 September 1871 – 2 February 1933 / Australia)
ABOVE us hangs the jewelled night;
And how her restful cool caresses
Make us forget the weary sight
Of summer’s daily wildernesses!
O aching toil and hope deferred,
The night has made a promise to me;
She whispered, and a wonder stirred,
And still the joy is thrilling through me.
Smooth water, shadow deeply still,
I dare not move, you wait unsleeping
—You share the breathless hopes that fill
The watch my longing soul is keeping.
A fish is leaping in the bay;
The shafts of yellow light are shaking.
O glorious night and happy day,
Beneath my silent heart she’s waking.
Comments about this poem (Waking by John Le Gay Brereton )
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