Here you will find the Poem Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XII of poet Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
He slept as only under the free heaven It is given to sleep, a slumber shadowless As the broad river to whose banks at even That spirit comes which brings forgetfulness, A silence undisturbed by the world's tread, Which sees not, hears not, feels not, yet is girt With sound and light and sense; which seeming dead Drinks in Earth's life in cure of every hurt And so takes consolation. Dreams anon Come for the soul's refreshment, apparitions Begot of heaven's beauty and the sun, No meaningless expectance of sad visions But tales prophetic of new days more fair And to be numbered with the things that are,
