Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“ For me, my heart that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,
That sees through tears the mummers leap,
Would now its wearied vision close,
Would childlike on His love repose,
Who giveth His beloved sleep. ”

“ O earth, so full of dreary noises!
O men, with wailing in your voices!
O delvèd gold, the wailers heap!
O strife, O curse, that o’er it fall! ”

“ Though on its slope men sow and reap.
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or cloud is floated overhead,
He giveth His beloved sleep.
Ay, men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man,
Confirmed in such a rest to keep ”