@2T@1HE shepherd moon mothers her shining sheep,— The little stars that cluster close and deep; And soon they sleep. The flower's wings are folded to her breast: She hears a whisper from the darkling west;— How pure her rest! Dim droop the drowsing birds upon the trees; The boughs are still as they: no unquiet breeze Troubles their ease. The far and lonely waters feel the spell, Whose monotones sound slowly out, and tell Their sway and swell. All nature is asleep and dreaming dreams Aglow with wonder that on waking seems But broken gleams. So let my spirit sleep the sleep of death: Close, eyes; be idle, hands; and silent, breath! Wait what It saith! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD IRONSIDES by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE FALL OF RICHMOND [APRIL, 1865] by HERMAN MELVILLE ON A FLY DRINKING FROM HIS CUP by WILLIAM OLDYS THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 2. PRELUDE: LOVE AT LARGE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |