Читать книгу The Germ: Thoughts towards Nature in Poetry, Literature and Art - Various - Страница 10

Where sunless rivers weep

Their waves into the deep,

She sleeps a charmed sleep;

Awake her not.

Led by a single star,

She came from very far,

To seek where shadows are

Her pleasant lot.

She left the rosy morn,

She left the fields of corn,

For twilight cold and lorn,

And water-springs.

Thro' sleep, as thro' a veil,

She sees the sky look pale,

And hears the nightingale,

That sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest,

Shed over brow and breast;

Her face is toward the west,

The purple land.

She cannot see the grain

Ripening on hill and plain;

She cannot feel the rain

Upon her hand.

Rest, rest, for evermore

Upon a mossy shore,

Rest, rest, that shall endure,

Till time shall cease;—

Sleep that no pain shall wake,

Night that no morn shall break,

Till joy shall overtake

Her perfect peace.