Page:Carroll - Three Sunsets.djvu/35

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. Of summer-breeze—there in mine ear, Even as I lingered half in fear, I heard a whisper, cold and clear,
 * "This is the gate of Death.

"O bitter is it to abide
 * In weariness alway:

At dawn to sigh for eventide,
 * At eventide for day.

Thy noon hath fled: thy sun hath shone: The brightness of thy day is gone: What need to lag and linger on
 * Till life be cold and gray?

"O well," it said, "beneath yon pool,
 * In some still cavern deep,

The fevered brain might slumber cool,
 * The eyes forget to weep:

Within that goblet's mystic rim Are draughts of healing, stored for him Whose heart is sick, whose sight is dim,
 * Who prayeth but to sleep!"

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