Here you will find thePoemAn Hour's Respiteof poet Christopher John Brennan
An hour's respite; once more the heart may dream: the thunderwheels of passion thro' the eve, distantly musical, vaporously agleam, about my old pain leave nought but a soft enchantment, vesper fable. Sweet hour of dream! from the tense height of life given back to this dear grass and perfumed shade, across the golden darkness I feel the simple flowerets where we stray'd in the clear eves unmix'd with starry strife. Ah! wilt thou not even now arise, low-laughing child haunting my old spring ways and blossom freshly on my freshen'd gaze, sororal in this hour of tenderness, an hour of happy hands and clinging eyes ? on silent heartstrings sweet memory fades in sweet forgetfulness.
