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From grievous slumber. Already unto thee Krkonoše, Triglav, Tatra, the Balkans, Ural and Velebit are aflame like new Horebs Where the spirit of God is speaking afresh; already unto thee, Volga, Vistula, and Danube, Vltava, Save and Drave are gleaming Like new Jordans, wherein are baptised the new-born thoughts Of the new age; already the dew of thy tears is everywhere radiant With hope of solace at hand; hazes of morning Already converse with thee in golden images of coming lustre; Early breezes, a gentle foreboding of joy, already with their pinions Fan thy bosom and brow, setting aquiver thy ponderings, And mustering little by little thy chaotic emotions; Thy spirit is striving against its last slumber, thy heart Is grappling with its last weariness, thou shakest and heavest, Strainest and rubbest thine eyes, already thou art at the point Of rousing thee, of gazing in concord upon God's beauteous day, whereof love is the sunrise: oh, ere long,