At Waking

By Sarah Orne Jewett

I heard the city bells at morning ring,
     The eastern sky was faintly tinged with light;
The tired town in heavy sleep lay still,
     And yet I knew it was no longer night.

One, two, three, four, the bells struck one by one,
     In answering steeples that were far away;
Who could help wondering what the morn might bring,
     Who waked, like me, between the dark and day?