 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
SLEEP AND SUNSET
Wait—ay, the hours bring night and night brings morn,
The old wheel forces on the waning day.
Wait, till the pale to-morrow shall be born,
As little gracious, and in turn decay.
The old wheel forces on the waning day.
Wait, till the pale to-morrow shall be born,
As little gracious, and in turn decay.
336
Rest is a cloud above the evening sun
That sees him set, nor fails in steadfast sphere;
Peace is a moon that when the stars are done
Without a twinkle sleeps upon a mere.
That sees him set, nor fails in steadfast sphere;
Peace is a moon that when the stars are done
Without a twinkle sleeps upon a mere.
Death is the mother and the queen of Peace,
Against whose breast each little wayward child,
Who never rested yet on alien knees,
Feels her his own and ere he slumbered smiled.
Against whose breast each little wayward child,
Who never rested yet on alien knees,
Feels her his own and ere he slumbered smiled.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |