Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/78

 Soothing their pain and weariness asleep; Then in thy hidden Dreamland hushed and deep Dost lay them, shrouded in eternal rest.

O sweetest Sister, and sole Patron Saint Of all the humble eremites who flee From out life's crowded tumult, stunned and faint, To seek a stern and lone tranquillity In Libyan wastes of time: my hopeless liſe With famished yearning craveth rest from strife; Therefore, thou Restful One, I call on Thee!

Take me, and lull me into perfect sleep; Down, down, far-hidden in thy duskiest cave; While all the clamorous years above me sweep Unheard, or, like the voice of seas that rave On far-off coasts, but murmuring o'er my trance, A dim vast monotone, that shall enhance The restful rapture of the inviolate grave

Upgathered thus in thy divine embrace, Upon mine eyes thy soft mesmeric hand, While wreaths of opiate odour interlace About my pulseless brow; babe-pure and bland,