Rest
Christina Rossetti
O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;
Seal her sweet eyes weary of
watching, Earth;
Lie close around her; leave no room
for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of
sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
Hushed in and curtained with a
blessèd dearth
Of all that irked her from the hour
of birth;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noon-day holdeth her,
Silence more musical than any song;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir:
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;
And when she wakes she will not
think it long.
posted by F Ponce de León at 03:45
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