Classic Poem

I see, as in a dreamscape,
A broad, bright, quiet sea;
And over it a haven —
The only home for me.
Some men grow strong with trouble
But all my strength is past;
And, being full with sorrow,
I long to sleep at last.
By ways of chance and changes
Man's life is hard at best;
And, seeing rest is voiceless,
The dearest thing is rest.

Beyond the sea behold it!
The home I wish to seek:
The refuge of the weary —
The solace of the weak,
Sweet angel fingers beckon —
Sweet angel voices ask
My soul to cross those waters —
I dare not face the task.
God help the man whose trials
Are tares that he must reap;
He cannot face the future —
His only hope is sleep.

Across the Main. A radiant vision
Of sunset coasts and skies;
And glorious widths of gleaming water
Enchant my human eyes.
I who have sinned and suffered
Am longing to be good;
And fain would rest out yonder
Crowned with beautitude.
Because there is no refuge
To shield away distress
Besides the realm of slumber
And great forgetfulness.