Part 7 (1/2)

O broken shi+p! O starless shore!

O black and everlasting night, Where love coht

A Godless ht; Ah, who so desolate at night Amid death's sleepers still and cold?

A Godless ht

I hear death trailing like a hound Hard after him, and swift to bite

VI

The vast moon settles to the west: Two men beside a nameless tomb, And one would sit thereon to rest,-- Ay, rest below, if there were room

What is this rest of death, sweet friend?

What is the rising up,--and where?

I say, death is a lengthened prayer, A longer night, a larger end

Hear you the lesson I once learned: I died; I sailed a h dreamful, flowery, restful isles,-- She was not there, and I returned

I say the shores of death and sleep Are one; that earied, come To Lethe's waters, and lie dumb, 'Tis death, not sleep, holds us to keep

Yea, we lie dead for need of rest And so the soul drifts out and o'er The vast still waters to the shore Beyond, in pleasant, tranquil quest:

It sails straight on, forgetting pain, Past isles of peace, to perfect rest,-- Noere it best abide, or best Return and take up life again?

And that is all of death there is, Believe me If you find your love In that far land, then like the dove Abide, and turn not back to this

But if you find your love not there; Or if your feet feel sure, and you Have still allotted work to do,-- Why, then return to toil and care

Death is no mystery 'Tis plain If death be ely deep,-- For oh this coain!

Austerest ferryleam of solid shores, I hear thy steady stroke of oars Above the wildest wave that rolls

O Charon, keep thy sombre shi+ps!

We come, with neither myrrh nor balm, Nor silver piece in open palm, But lone white silence on our lips

VII

She prays so long! she prays so late!

What sin in all this flower-land Against her supplicating hand Could have in heaven any weight?

Prays she for her sweet self alone?