THE tall carnations crown the garden walks <br />Bowed on their stalks. <br /> <br />Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods, <br />'What are the odds <br />That we shall wake up here within the sun, <br />When time is done, <br />And pick up all the treasures one by one <br />Our hands let fall in sleep?' 'You have begun <br />To mutter in your dreams,' <br />Said John-a-nods to Jock-a-dreams, <br />And they both slept again. <br /> <br />The tall carnations in the sunset glow <br />Burned row on row. <br /> <br />Said John-a-nods to Jock-a-dreams, <br />'To me it seems <br />A thousand years since last you stirred and spoke, <br />And I awoke. <br />Was that the wind then trying to provoke <br />His brothers in their blessed sleep?' 'They choke, <br />Who mutter in their nods,' <br />Said Jock-a-dreams to John-a-nods. <br />And they both slept again. <br /> <br />The tall carnations only heard a sigh <br />Of dusk go by.<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sleepers-7/
