Page:Collected poems of Flecker.djvu/259

 Stillness

When the words rustle no more,
 * And the last work's done,

When the bolt lies deep in the door,
 * And Fire, our Sun,

Falls on the dark-laned meadows of the floor;

When from the clock's last chime to the next chime
 * Silence beats his drum,

And Space with gaunt grey eyes and her brother Time
 * Wheeling and whispering come,

She with the mould of form and he with the loom of rhyme:

Then twittering out in the night my thought-birds flee,
 * I am emptied of all my dreams:

I only hear Earth turning, only see
 * Ether's long bankless streams,

And only know I should drown if you laid not your hand on me. 223