TO Night the sleeper, The watcher Sorrow: "Be thy dreams deeper, So may I borrow Peace of thy peace, And rest to my sorrow!" "Peace, oh, peace!" Quoth Night. "Of to-morrow I am the keeper, O watcher, O Sorrow! "Under my breast Its gold is moulden. Lay thee, and rest, To dreams beholden, Wherefrom of its nest The dawn goes golden!" To the dreamed Morrow, Sorrow the sleeper: "Where may I borrow New tears to my sorrow, To comfort my sorrow, Lest the wound grow deeper? Of sleep borne hither, Its well-springs wither." "Of me," quoth the Morrow, "O Sorrow the sleeper!" |