At Waking Poem by Sarah Orne Jewett
At Waking
I heard the city bells at morning ring,
The eastern sky was faintly tinged with light;
The tired town in heavy sleep lay still,
And yet I knew it was no longer night.
One, two, three, four, the bells struck one by one,
In answering steeples that were far away:
Who could help wondering what the morn might bring,
Who waked, like me, between the dark and day?
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8/6/2026 5:11:07 AM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
