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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415813" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ariadne Waking</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415813" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking,<br>When Ariadne in her bower was waking;<br>Her eyelids still were closing, and she heard<br>But indistinctly yet a little bird,<br>That in the leaves o’erhead, waiting the sun,<br>Seemed answering another distant one.<br>She waked, but stirred not, only just to please<br>Her pillow-nestling cheek; while the full seas,<br>The birds, the leaves, the lulling love o’ernight<br>The happy thought of the returning light,<br>The sweet, self-willed content, conspired to keep<br>Her senses lingering in the feel of sleep;<br>And with a little smile she seemed to say,<br>“I know my love is near me, and ’tis day.”</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Henry+Leigh+Hunt">James Henry Leigh Hunt</a></strong></div>

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