Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SLEEPER, by LAURA M. THURSTON



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SLEEPER, by            
First Line: She sleepeth, and the summer breezes' sighing
Last Line: But the freed spirit lives beyond the sky
Alternate Author Name(s): Viola; Hawley, Laura M.
Subject(s): Sleep


SHE sleepeth, and the summer breezes' sighing,
Shedding the green leaves on the fountain's breast,
And the low murmur of the stream replying
Unto their melody, break not her rest.

She sleepeth, while the evening dews are falling
In glittering showers upon her lowly bed;
And the lone night-bird, to his fellow calling,
Sweet echo wakes -- but wakens not the dead.

She sleepeth; and the moonlight too is sleeping
In calm, clear radiance on that hallow'd spot;
As if that turf ne'er bore the train of weeping,
As if the dead were evermore forgot.

She sleepeth; deep and dreamless is her slumber,
She will not waken when the morning breaks;
No -- time a weary catalogue shall number
Of vanish'd years, ere she again awakes.

I know thy home is lonely -- that thy dwelling
No more shall echo to that loved one's tread;
I know too well thy widow'd heart is swelling
With secret grief; yet weep not for the dead.

She yet shall waken on that morning glorious,
When day shall evermore displace the night,
O'er time and change, and pain and death victorious,
A holy seraph in the land of light.

Yes, she shall waken; not to gloom and sorrow,
Not to the blight of care, the thrill of pain,
Wake to the day that ne'er shall know a morrow,
To life that shall not yield to death again.

She rests in peace; for her forbear thy weeping;
Thou soon shalt meet her in the world on high!
The care-worn form in yonder grave is sleeping,
But the freed spirit lives beyond the sky





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