Opals (Custance)/A Sleep Song
A Sleep Song
How cool 'neath apple-bough embroideriesThe lush grass here!Lie down, and I will sit beside you, dear,And take your tired head upon my knees.
River-like round us noontide sun-flames fold,And find our hairFalling between the listless leaves up there—Your short crisp curls seem carved of shining gold.
Behind the troubled pallor of your faceWhat cruel thoughts throng?Your curved lids, fringed with lashes thick and long,Droop heavily—sleep, dream, a brief hour's space.
Sleep, and forget how bitter is your grief,How hard to bear!And sorrow shall slip from you unaware,Soft as a shed rose-petal, or blown leaf.
Stir not, O sun-drowsed earth, stay thus awhile—So languorous sweet;Sleep on, dear heart, in the hushed, fervid heat.Is dreamland full of peace? I see you smile.