Sea-Sleep

      sleep, sleep, sleep In thy folded waves, O Sea!     Till the quiet breathings creep, With a low-voiced melody,     Out of the glimmering deep. For sleep is the close of life;     ’T is the end of love, and its birth; ’T is the quieting of strife,     And the silencing of mirth.       Hush and sleep! Close thou thy lids, O Sea,     On palaces and towers; Dream on deliciously     Deep in thy dreamland bowers. Waken us not again,     Beating upon our shore, Rousing the strife in men     With full and thunderous roar. Drop from thy crested heights,     To still repose and rest; Fold us in hushed delights,     With dream-flowers from thy breast: Not as the poppies are     But lilies cool, that weep Tears that as kisses scar     To soothe for slumbers deep. Hush thou the little waves,     Hush with a low-voiced song, Till the Under-Deep that laves     Thy lucid floor lifts strong; Till the Under-Word is borne     To this weary world of ours, And lives, for love that mourn,     Fold as the dew-dipped flowers. Rest thou in time’s unrest,     In the bloom-bell and the brain; Then loose, all silver-tressed,     The streamings of thy mane: Gliding, dissolving so,     That we at peace may be. Sleep in thy silver glow,     Thy azure calm, O Sea;       Make lullaby!