AND did they say that rest was not so sweet,

Old age a sadness, no repose at all?

Then have they quite forgotten. They remember

No more the heartbreak of their early youth,

The battle fought for life, the angry clouds

That hid the sun, till he would shine no more,

The anguish of their nights, that made their bed

A furnace and a rack. They say: 'Twas but

A nightmare! And they smile, and yet that smile

Is sadder than a frown, much sadder than

A tear, as it is hopeless. For a tear

Has a bright spot, wherein the sun may sparkle.

That smile is sunless, be it e'er so sweet.

And know ye not how wildly ye have called

On Death, and tried to catch him by the wing,

Or let yourself be trodden under foot

By him? And wrung your hands in agony,

When he had passed you by. Ye dare not tell

Your heart what it has suffered, dare not look

Into the past again, for fear of turning

To stone, for whitelipp'd fear of waking from

Its sleep that heart to make it throb again,

Like millstones. You remember! Ah! You see!

You even try to do away with pity,

For fear of being tortured yet again,

And shaken yet again, and no more able

To quiet that unruly heart, that learnt

To fear. Oh! Have ye never known what fear

Can make of you? The wandering of your clock,

That hammers nails into your brain and hands,

The coming of the dawn, that cruel dawn,

With icy, deathlike eyes and hollow voice,

Announcing mercilessly that the day

Hath come? And were you not afraid, when night

Set in again, with redhot eyeballs, with

The lonely wringing of your soul between

Her hands, like linen, that she washed in tears,

In blood, in rivers of despair? Oh, see!

Here comes with gentle wing and loving eye

Sweet Rest, and lays her mantle round your shoulders,

And bids you fear no more, but listen to

The birds' first Alleluia to the morn,

That dances o'er the dew, up to the dawn,

And be it e'er so cold, so lifeless, like

The last of all the dawn they sang to. Fear

Is banished, anguish quenched in all the waters

That grief has steeped you in. You know that ne'er

Another day can be so dark again,

As Rest forbids the cruel dawn to break

With threat'ning eyes, as Rest shuts out the night,

And leaves thee lonely not, but fills thy sight

With loving faces at the gates of heaven.

Sweet Rest is round thee, like an autumn sun,

And sheds thy rays upon the striving young ones.

Ye long for bed again, like little children;

No longer doth the pillow seem on fire,

Your couch a bed of coals. The weary head

Is cool, the limbs lie still, and thought comes gently

Like a nurse's well-known ditty, that will lull

To sleep thee with its sameness. Rest hath come

At last, and looks into thy room, into

Thy heart, and sends forgetfulness, like balm,

Like a flower's perfume through thy silent chamber.

The clock is peaceful with its quiet beat,

And night and morn are one; they bring no struggle.

Sweet Rest hath come, great, wingèd, heaven-born,

To lead thee to thy home with angels' hands.