SHALL I lie down to sleep, and see no more The splendid pageantry of earth and sky -- The proud procession of the stars sweep by, The white moon sway the sea, and woo the shore; The morning lark to the far Heaven soar; The nightingale with the soft dusk draw nigh; The summer roses bud, and bloom, and die -- Will Life and Life's delight for me be o'er? Nay! I shall be, in my low silent home, Of all Earth's gracious ministries aware -- Glad with the gladness of the risen day, Or gently sad with sadness of the gloam, Yet done with striving, and foreclosed of care -- At rest -- at rest! What better thing to say? |