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1841–1896

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.

Mathilde Blind

There was intoxication in the air; The wind, keen blowing from across the seas, O'er leagues of new-ploughed land and heathery leas, Smelt of wild gorse whose gold flamed everywhere.

An undertone of song pulsed far and near, The soaring larks filled heaven with ecstasies, And, like a living clock among the trees, The shouting cuckoo struck the time of year.

For now the Sun had found the earth once more, And woke the Sleeping Beauty with a kiss; Who thrilled with light of love in every pore, Opened her flower-blue eyes, and looked in his.

Then all things felt life fluttering at their core — The world shook mystical in lambent bliss.

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THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. · Mathilde Blind · Poetry Cove