“Sit down, sad soul”

Sit down, sad soul, and count The moments flying; Come, tell the sweet amount That ’s lost by sighing! How many smiles?—a score? Then laugh, and count no more; For day is dying! Lie down, sad soul, and sleep, And no more measure The flight of time, nor weep The loss of leisure; But here, by this lone stream, Lie down with us, and dream Of starry treasure! We dream: do thou the same; We love,—forever; We laugh, yet few we shame,— The gentle never. Stay, then, till sorrow dies; Then—hope and happy skies Are thine forever!

Collection:

English

Bryan Waller Procter

Sub Title:

VII. Death: Immortality: Heaven

More from Poet

History of a Life Day dawned;—within a curtained room, Filled to faintness with perfume, A lady lay at point of doom. Day closed;—a Child had seen the light: But, for the lady fair and bright, She rested in undreaming night. Spring rose;—the lady’s grave was green; And near it, oftentimes, was seen A gentle Boy...	The White Squall The Sea was bright, and the bark rode well; The breeze bore the tone of the vesper bell; ’T was a gallant bark with a crew as brave As ever launched on the heaving wave. She shone in the light of declining day, And each sail was set, and each heart was gay. They neared the land where in beauty...	Address to the Ocean O Thou vast Ocean! ever-sounding Sea! Thou symbol of a drear immensity! Thou thing that windest round the solid world Like a huge animal, which, downward hurled From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone, Lashing and writhing till its strength be gone! Thy voice is like the thunder, and thy...	The Sea The Sea! the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth’s wide regions round; It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies; Or like a cradled creature lies. I ’m on the sea! I ’m on the sea! I am where I would ever be; With the...
The Blood Horse Gamarra is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble breed, Full of fire, and full of bone, With all his line of fathers known; Fine his nose, his nostrils thin, But blown abroad by the pride within! His mane is like a river flowing, And his eyes like embers glowing In the darkness of the...