Oh! is it Death that comes <br />To have a foretaste of the whole? <br />To-night the planets and the stars <br />Will glimmer through my window-bars <br />But will not shine upon my soul! <br /> <br />For I shall lie as dead <br />Though yet I am above the ground; <br />All passionless, with scarce a breath, <br />With hands of rest and eyes of death, <br />I shall be carried swiftly round. <br /> <br />Or if my life should break <br />The idle night with doubtful gleams, <br />Through mossy arches will I go, <br />Through arches ruinous and low, <br />And chase the true and false in dreams. <br /> <br />Why should I fall asleep? <br />When I am still upon my bed <br />The moon will shine, the winds will rise <br />And all around and through the skies <br />The light clouds travel o'er my head! <br /> <br />O busy, busy things, <br />Ye mock me with your ceaseless life! <br />For all the hidden springs will flow <br />And all the blades of grass will grow <br />When I have neither peace nor strife. <br /> <br />And all the long night through <br />The restless streams will hurry by; <br />And round the lands, with endless roar, <br />The white waves fall upon the shore, <br />And bit by bit devour the dry. <br /> <br />Even thus, but silently, <br />Eternity, thy tide shall flow, <br />And side by side with every star <br />Thy long-drawn swell shall bear me far, <br />An idle boat with none to row. <br /> <br />My senses fail with sleep; <br />My heart beats thick; the night is noon; <br />And faintly through its misty folds <br />I hear a drowsy clock that holds <br />Its converse with the waning moon. <br /> <br />Oh, solemn mystery <br />That I should be so closely bound <br />With neither terror nor constraint, <br />Without a murmur of complaint, <br />And lose myself upon such ground!<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sleep-152/
