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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XII
Work rating: Low

He slept as only under the free heaven
 It is given to sleep, a slumber shadowless
 As the broad river to whose banks at even
 That spirit comes which brings forgetfulness,
 A silence undisturbed by the world`s tread,
 Which sees not, hears not, feels not, yet is girt
 With sound and light and sense; which seeming dead
 Drinks in Earth`s life in cure of every hurt
 And so takes consolation. Dreams anon
 Come for the soul`s refreshment, apparitions
 Begot of heaven`s beauty and the sun,
 No meaningless expectance of sad visions
 But tales prophetic of new days more fair
 And to be numbered with the things that are,
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