The Sleeping Child
( WALDO EMERSON, DEAD ) (1843)
Darkness now hath overpaced
Life's swift dance; and curtained Awe
Feebly lifts a sunken eye,
Wonted to this gloomy law.
Lips are still that sweetly spoke;
Heedless Death the spell hath broke.
Weep not for him, friends so dear!
Largest measure he hath taken.
Now he roams the sun's dominion,
Our chill fortunes quite forsaken;
There his eyes have purer sight
In that calm, reflected light.
Let your tears dissolve in peace!
For he holds high company;
And he seeks, with famous men,
Statelier lines of ancestry;
He shall shame the wisest ones
In that palace of the suns.
Darkness now hath overpaced
Life's swift dance; and curtained Awe
Feebly lifts a sunken eye,
Wonted to this gloomy law.
Lips are still that sweetly spoke;
Heedless Death the spell hath broke.
Weep not for him, friends so dear!
Largest measure he hath taken.
Now he roams the sun's dominion,
Our chill fortunes quite forsaken;
There his eyes have purer sight
In that calm, reflected light.
Let your tears dissolve in peace!
For he holds high company;
And he seeks, with famous men,
Statelier lines of ancestry;
He shall shame the wisest ones
In that palace of the suns.
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