Full Lyrics
Move him into the sun
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields halfsown.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.
Think how it wakes the seeds
Woke once the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear achieved, are sides
Fullnerved, still warm, too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?Oh what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
