That grief has steeped you in. You know that ne'er

Another day can be so dark again,

As Rest forbids the cruel dawn to break

With threat'ning eyes, as Rest shuts out the night,

And leaves thee lonely not, but fills thy sight

With loving faces at the gates of heaven.

Sweet Rest is round thee, like an autumn sun,

And sheds thy rays upon the striving young ones.

Ye long for bed again, like little children;

No longer doth the pillow seem on fire,

Your couch a bed of coals. The weary head

Is cool, the limbs lie still, and thought comes gently

Like a nurse's well-known ditty, that will lull

To sleep thee with its sameness. Rest hath come

At last, and looks into thy room, into

Thy heart, and sends forgetfulness, like balm,

{31}

Like a flower's perfume through thy silent chamber.

The clock is peaceful with its quiet beat,

And night and morn are one; they bring no struggle.

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