 | [Poems by Larcom in] The ladies' wreath and Parlor Annual |  |
[II. “When I awake.” In truth, 'tis like a dream]
“When I awake.” In truth, 'tis like a dream,All that hath passed before these eyes of sense;
Yet Love, thy dearer name, Omnipotence,
Hath pierced the veil with many a golden beam,
Else, dark and wearisome the night would seem.
The dawn of heaven—in radiance pouring thence,
Vain dreams will hide their candles of pretence.
I have been sleeping. How shall I redeem
Those earthly hours bestowed for heavenly deeds—
These rusting talents from my bosom bring?
No longer will I lie in flowery meads.
I will awake and follow Thee, my King;
That, when my death-sealed ear the archangel heeds,
I, blest, may join the saints' awakening.
| [Poems by Larcom in] The ladies' wreath and Parlor Annual | |