IS the night only a time for sleep?
‘Tis then I am to quiet places lead,
Surrounded oft’ by thoughtful trees that sweep
Across and intermingle overhead
And form a tomb of silence and dead sound ;
Tranquillity, that sweetest flower, doth bloom,
Casting its sexless perfume around,
And eyes are sightless in the downy gloom ;
No conscious thought or movement stirs the brain
With sense of touch or knowing hearts that break,
And I, a wanderer in the soul’s domain.
Sleep not, lest in sleeping have to wake.
(Bernard Waters)
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