The Sleepers

By George Sterling

Tho weak the wintry sunlight beam,
    The slumbering flowers begin to dream.
Far south, and very faintly, sing
    The announcing angels or the Spring.

Tho muffling snows be drifted deep,
    Forgotten voices cross their sleep;
Soon, to the rain's release and fall,
    They shall awaken, and recall.

Ears have they not, yet shall they hear
    The vernal trumpets ringing clear;
They have not eyes, and yet shall see
    The road to Spring's nativity.

Seems it not true a subtler Light
    Bestows on them the boon of sight,
Since they, whom mortals reckon blind,
    A wiser way than mortals find?—

The path to Nature's large repose,
    Where poppy, lilac, lupin, rose
In beauty and in silence wait
    The fortunes of their meek estate.
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