Fly, poppied drowse, away!
Across the marshes sweep,
Chasing the fallen moon, the shadows gray;
Make me not laggard, Sleep!
Against the morning move,
Fronting the reddening miles!
Touch the white eyelids of the girl I love,
And fill her dreams with smiles.
John Hay
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reveille-4/
