Craven Blossoms or, Poems chiefly connected with the district of Craven. By Robert Storey |
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| 2. |
HOW SLEEP THE DEAD? |
 | Craven Blossoms |  |
61
HOW SLEEP THE DEAD?
How sleep the Dead in yon Church-yard,
Where chequering moonbeams purely fall?
How sleep the Dead beneath the sward?
Calmly—softly—sweetly all!
Where chequering moonbeams purely fall?
How sleep the Dead beneath the sward?
Calmly—softly—sweetly all!
In mute companionship they lie,
No hearts that ache—no eyes that weep;
Care—Sickness—Trouble come not nigh
The beds of those that yonder sleep.
No hearts that ache—no eyes that weep;
Care—Sickness—Trouble come not nigh
The beds of those that yonder sleep.
Around, the world is passion-tost;
War, Murder, Crime forever reign;
Of central peace alone may boast
The Church-yard's undisturbed domain.
War, Murder, Crime forever reign;
Of central peace alone may boast
The Church-yard's undisturbed domain.
62
The stormy sea of human life,
With all its surges, roars around;
Their barrier-wall repels its strife,
No wave breaks o'er their hallowed ground.
With all its surges, roars around;
Their barrier-wall repels its strife,
No wave breaks o'er their hallowed ground.
Around, the summer sun may scorch—
The Dead feel not the sultriest ray;
Winter may howl in spire and porch—
The Dead are reckless of his sway.
The Dead feel not the sultriest ray;
Winter may howl in spire and porch—
The Dead are reckless of his sway.
Thus sleep the Dead in yon Church-yard,
Where chequering moonbeams purely fall;
Thus sleep the Dead beneath the sward,
Calmly—softly—sweetly all!
Where chequering moonbeams purely fall;
Thus sleep the Dead beneath the sward,
Calmly—softly—sweetly all!
| Craven Blossoms | |