Last night beneath the mockery of the moon
I heard the sudden startled whisperings
Of wakened birds settling their restless wings; 
The North-east brought his word of gladness, "Soon!" 
And all the night with wonder was a-swoon. 
A soul had breathed into long-dreaming things; 
Some unseen hand hovered above the strings: 
Some cosmic chord had set the earth in tune. 
And when I rose I saw the Bay arrayed
In her gray robe against the coming heat. 
A pulse awoke within the stirring street-- 
The wattle-gold upon the pavements thrown, 
And through the quiet of the colonnade
The smoky perfume of boronia blown.  

-- Arthur Henry Adams, " A Spring Sonnet''