Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/187



, we say, when comes the time to win The daily death divine that shuts up sight, Sleep, that assures for all who dwell therein Good night.

The shadow shed round those we love shines bright As love's own face, when death, sleep's gentler twin, From them divides us even as night from light. Shall friends born lower in life, though pure of sin, Though clothed with love and faith to usward plight, Perish and pass unbidden of us, their kin, Good night?