SLEEP on, dear, now The last sleep and the best, And on thy brow, And on thy quiet breast Violets I throw. Thy scanty years Were mine a little while; Life had no fears To trouble thy brief smile With toil or tears. Lie still, and be For evermore a child! Not grudgingly, Whom life has not defiled, I render thee. Slumber so deep, No man would rashly wake; I hardly weep, Fain only, for thy sake, To share thy sleep. Yes, to be dead, Dead, here with thee to-day, -- When all is said 'Twere good by thee to lay My weary head. The very best! Ah, child so tired of play, I stand confessed: I want to come thy way, And share thy rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEED OF BEING VERSED IN COUNTRY THINGS by ROBERT FROST SNEEZING by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT NORTHERN FARMER, NEW STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE HUNTER AND THE MILKMAID by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER NO CONTINUING CITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LABORATORY; ANCIEN REGIME by ROBERT BROWNING |