Old wonder flush'd the east anew br and shed the golden air, and wing br of song that summon'd, from the dew br and rapture of the fields of spring, br old wonder blossom'd in my heart: br because the threatening dream of old, br that nightly wont to bid us part, br now changing, gave me to behold br thy rosy maidenhood that pass'd br and greeted me with stranger grace, br who knew that meeting for our last br and far from mine thy biding-place. br And I have thank'd the threat of sleep, br because the secret heart that flow'd br with phantom wound was proven to keep br beneath its living springs bestow'd br the pang that seven years since was felt br keen thro' my life yet soft dispersed br along all veins that thrill or melt — br old wonder, blossom'd, not inhears'd: br and eyes perchance made dull and slow br by the long days' subtle dusty mesh br waked gladly from their fear, to know br old wonder, old and ever fresh.