 | Flotsam and Jetsam |  |
60
GO TO SLEEP.
I
Good-night, my life's love! go to sleep!Those simple words how much they mean!
Your darling form I still may keep,
Your head may on my shoulder lean;
The casket my fond arm may clasp—
The jewel—Soul, escapes my grasp!
II
Sleep is a still, enchanted woodWith narrow walks which you must tread
Quite by yourself, whoe'er intrude,
Elf, fairy, goblin, demon dread!—
Dear, may you find, in this your plight,
A pleasant pathway to the light!
61
III
Sleep, sweet one, is an opening doorInto the other world; the hole,
Like urchins at a peepshow poor,
You peer through at the realms of Soul:
But you must look through it alone,
To two at once 'tis never shown.
IV
Sleep is a faithful friend black-stoled,Who in the hush on tiptoe steals
To break the chains of Sense that hold
The Soul its captive; and reveals
The clime Day's prison-walls shut out
With brightness built all round about.
V
Day is a restless HarlequinWhose wand half frights the Soul away;
But Sleep the shy recluse can win
To quite forget her house of clay;
From Day to hidden garrets flown,
Sleep brings fair guests to lure her down.
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VI
Sleep ushers in all Spirit-things;Our elbow-mates good Angels be;
We hear the rustling of their wings,
We seem to feel Eternity;
Our dead ones greet us; souls we miss
Come from their world to comfort this.
VII
A magic-lantern, Sleep! each slideA life!—a rich kaleidoscope
That turns and shakes out issues wide
Of folly, fear, hate, kindness, hope:
A garden, where a moment bears
The blossom and the fruit of years.
VIII
Dreams in her Mart are chapmen primeWho cheaply sell experience rare;
Condemned for murder—foul with crime—
Shame, guilt, remorse, unstained we share;
Uninjured test all dooms of love;
And O, what deadliest perils prove!
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IX
Pushed o'er a cliff, in wild despairWe cling, and see against the sky
Its trembling grass, through empty air
As sweeps the breeze so faintly by;
We grasp a bush—Ah treacherous stay,
We feel its roots are giving way!
X
Our eyes we shut, our teeth we set,Like lightning fall—our breath is gone!
But, strange event unheard of yet,
Like thin cascades from vast heights thrown,
Whisked off in mist,—from that dread brink
As on a nurse's lap we sink!—
XI
Crisp sunset-beams green meads enfold;Brushing the buttercups we range;
‘See, love, your chin reflects their gold!’—
A sudden sense of something strange
At hand—a rumble and a shake—
A lurid gloom our fears awake!
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XII
Look! pale red rays stand fixed in air,Shot from the earth that quivering heaves;
The trees turn purple; here and there
A cold light glitters on the leaves
Like faces livid with the flames
Of liquids burnt at Christmas games.
XIII
Then seems the roaring sky one blackAnd wide rock driving overhead
With many a broad and branching crack!
Our only thought is: ‘We are dead!
Horror! the world is at an end!’
And then—those rocks do not descend!—
XIV
Awake, the coverings of the couch,Still shuddering, round us close we pull,
Lest we the awful Spirits touch,
Of which the chamber must be full;
It seems so still—so deeply hushed
After that world split, shattered, crushed!
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XV
O rich, sweet, dreadful Sleep, why mixYour guests such cups of bootless fright?
Is there a meaning in your tricks?—
Methinks such lessons you indite
To teach us actual Death to view
As such a harmless terror too!
Then go to Sleep, sweet! I must lend
Your Soul to her, whate'er her mood;
Sweet Soul, go seek her, as a friend
Whose wildest freaks will work you good!
And look from those dear windows blue
At morn—and tell all you've been through!
Your Soul to her, whate'er her mood;
Sweet Soul, go seek her, as a friend
Whose wildest freaks will work you good!
And look from those dear windows blue
At morn—and tell all you've been through!
| Flotsam and Jetsam | |