"O Songs!" I said: "Stop sounding in my soul Just for a little while and let me sleep, Resting my head on the breast Of Silence;" but the rhythmic roll Of a thousand songs swept on and on, And a far Voice said: "When thou art dead Thy restless heart shall rest." And the songs will never let me sleep. I plead with them; but o'er the deep They still will roll On, and on, and on, Their music never gone. Ah! world-tired soul! Just for a little while, Just like a poor, tired child Beneath its Mother's smile -- Only to fall asleep! Silence! be mother to me! But -- No! No! No! The waves will ebb and flow. I wonder is it best To never, never rest Down on the shores of this strange Below? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE RABBIT by KAREN SWENSON OF DISTRESS BEING HUMILIATED BY THE CLASSICAL CHINESE POETS by HAYDEN CARRUTH REPORT ON EXPERIENCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE BRIDGE: PROEM. TO BROOKLYN BRIDGE by HAROLD HART CRANE IN THE SHADOWS: 20 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) CHORUS OF CLOUD-MAIDENS: STROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES THE WORD by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS TO THEOPHILE GAUTIER by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE CONCLUDING VERSES, AFTER RETURNING HOME FROM AN AUTUMNAL MORNING WALK by BERNARD BARTON |