An’ memory-maids come trippin’, an’ a-slidin’ an’ a-slippin’,
An’ floodin’ all my heart house with the faint notes of their flute—
Then my lips jus’ longs to utter little songs that kind o’ flutter
’Round the earthly cage that coops them, an’ would fly up in the light,
An’ to my soul a-yearnin’, little firefly thoughts come burnin’
An’ bringin’ spirit-lanterns that would lead it out of night—
When I wake up in the mornin’.
When I wake up in the mornin’, in that solemn, silent mornin’,
After long, long years of slumber, an’ long, long years of sleep,
When my spirit’s bird has rested in the heavenly air it breasted