And so I turned me from the brooding night;

And, couched again upon the leopard-skins,

I slept, till dawn, in dream-untroubled sleep.

I woke to see the cold sky kindling red,

Beyond the mounded ash of the spent fire;

And lay, a moment, watching

The pearly light, caught, trembling,

In dewy-beaded spiders' webs

About the cave-mouth woven.

Then I arose;

And left my kindred, slumbering--

My mother, by my father,

And, at her breast, her youngest babe,

With dimpled fingers clutching at her bosom;

And, all around them, lying

Their sons and daughters, beautiful in sleep,

With parted lips,

And easy limbs outstretched

Along the tumbled bedskins:

And while they slumbered yet in shades of night,

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