Stories that might be true With other poems: By Dora Greenwell |
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A SONG OF REST. |
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A SONG OF REST.
“Acquaint now thyself with God, and be at Peace.
Job xxii. 21.
A solemn World—no cloud is on the sky,
Intense and blue, unstirred by any breath,
Heaven seems to stoop and listen silently
To hold a voiceless communing with Death:
This is the place where God hath given Sleep
To his Beloved Ones; long grasses wave
Above them, and through branches woven deep
A quiet sunbeam glides across the grave;
Here it is good for Thee awhile to be
Oh, restless heart! where nothing stirs or moves,
Where nothing is disquieted like Thee,
Where nothing sorrows and where nothing loves;
Here it is good for Thee to be, though now
Where all is peace, Thou come but as a Guest,
Soon Thou wilt be a Dweller! Wait and Thou
Shalt also rest!
Intense and blue, unstirred by any breath,
Heaven seems to stoop and listen silently
To hold a voiceless communing with Death:
This is the place where God hath given Sleep
To his Beloved Ones; long grasses wave
Above them, and through branches woven deep
A quiet sunbeam glides across the grave;
Here it is good for Thee awhile to be
Oh, restless heart! where nothing stirs or moves,
Where nothing is disquieted like Thee,
Where nothing sorrows and where nothing loves;
Here it is good for Thee to be, though now
Where all is peace, Thou come but as a Guest,
Soon Thou wilt be a Dweller! Wait and Thou
Shalt also rest!
Here God hath given his Beloved Sleep;
It is dark night within, and all the bed
Is folded smooth by Him that made it; deep,
And curtained close about the feet and head;
There is no rise or falling of the breast,
The Earth lies light upon them, and the sod
Heaves not; the heart for evermore hath rest
When once its beatings have been stilled by God;
For they that talked with it have taken flight,
There are no busy voices underground,
When Thought and Memory have said “good night”
And passed, in fear to break a sleep so sound;
Yet they whom slumber wraps so sweetly now,
Were wont erewhile a troubled watch to keep,
And slept perchance for sadness; Wait and Thou
Shalt also Sleep!
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Is folded smooth by Him that made it; deep,
And curtained close about the feet and head;
There is no rise or falling of the breast,
The Earth lies light upon them, and the sod
Heaves not; the heart for evermore hath rest
When once its beatings have been stilled by God;
For they that talked with it have taken flight,
There are no busy voices underground,
When Thought and Memory have said “good night”
And passed, in fear to break a sleep so sound;
Yet they whom slumber wraps so sweetly now,
Were wont erewhile a troubled watch to keep,
And slept perchance for sadness; Wait and Thou
Shalt also Sleep!
And here the sleep that God hath given is sweet;
So sweet, that they are covetous of rest
That slumber here, and when the parted meet
They speak not, even they that loved the best;
For they have rest from all, and Love had grown
Too dear for quietness, so now they sleep
Until the hour when God shall give His Own
Beloved Ones a rest more full and deep;
While from the ground a voice unto me cries
“Here God hath given sleep;” an answer clear
Falls from the solemn, bright, attesting skies,
“He giveth Rest and Love together Here;”
Sleep is not Rest—Yet softly on it now
The shadow of a Rest beyond it lies,
And lengthens ever; Wait, my Soul, and Thou
Shalt also rise!
So sweet, that they are covetous of rest
That slumber here, and when the parted meet
They speak not, even they that loved the best;
For they have rest from all, and Love had grown
Too dear for quietness, so now they sleep
Until the hour when God shall give His Own
Beloved Ones a rest more full and deep;
While from the ground a voice unto me cries
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Falls from the solemn, bright, attesting skies,
“He giveth Rest and Love together Here;”
Sleep is not Rest—Yet softly on it now
The shadow of a Rest beyond it lies,
And lengthens ever; Wait, my Soul, and Thou
Shalt also rise!
| Stories that might be true | |