Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul;
Time comes to keep night-watch with thee,
Nodding with roses; and the sea
Saith “Peace!  Peace!” amid his foam. 
“O be still!”
The wind cries up the whispering hill—­
  Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul.

ENVOI

Child, do you love the flower
  Ashine with colour and dew
Lighting its transient hour? 
    So I love you.

The lambs in the mead are at play,
  ’Neath a hurdle the shepherd’s asleep;
From height to height of the day
    The sunbeams sweep.

Evening will come.  And alone
  The dreamer the dark will beguile;
All the world will be gone
    For a dream’s brief while.

Then I shall be old; and away: 
  And you, with sad joy in your eyes,
Will brood over children at play
    With as loveful surmise.

* * * * *