Into the darkness of my lonely sleep, the sun

Spread slow at first, with a stranger's quarter-look,

Then faster, faster, till his golden light at a run

Shouted in every corner of my mind, Awake, oh wake!

Stumbling outdoors from my night to morning ground,

I stared at the world's grass, a wall's shine,

At a fountain elm in all history unowned,

And a cloud, I said, that could be seen from Spain.

What I do first today must be water-clean,

Old color of sun, breathe like the elm tree tall,

As right and easy in love as leaves are green,

Flow up like tree, and like the tree stand still.

It was early, everything yet to be told and given,

The light wet boughs waiting there to be blown,

And each thin least leaf to the Monday air open

Of a new day all gay and green, almost begun.