Quiet, quiet dead, <br />Have ye aught to say <br />From your hidden bed <br />In the earthy clay? <br /> <br />Fathers, children, mothers, <br />Ye are very quiet; <br />Can ye shout, my brothers? <br />I would know you by it! <br /> <br />Have ye any words <br />That are like to ours? <br />Have ye any birds? <br />Have ye any flowers? <br /> <br />Could ye rise a minute <br />When the sun is warm? <br />I would know you in it, <br />I would take no harm. <br /> <br />I am half afraid <br />In the ghostly night; <br />If ye all obeyed <br />I should fear you quite. <br /> <br />But when day is breaking <br />In the purple east <br />I would meet you waking- <br />One of you at least- <br /> <br />When the sun is tipping <br />Every stony block, <br />And the sun is slipping <br />Down the weathercock. <br /> <br />Quiet, quiet dead, <br />I will not perplex you; <br />What my tongue hath said <br />Haply it may vex you! <br /> <br />Yet I hear you speaking <br />With a quiet speech, <br />As if ye were seeking <br />Better things to teach: <br /> <br />'Wait a little longer, <br />Suffer and endure <br />Till your heart is stronger <br />And your eyes are pure- <br /> <br />A little longer, brother, <br />With your fellow-men: <br />We will meet each other <br />Otherwhere again.'<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/quiet-dead/
