Rest
To-day I'll give to peace: I will not look
To Behind, before me, I will simply be;
Hopes and regrets shall claim no share in me;
Here will I lie, beside the leaping brook,
And turn the pages of some aimless book,
Sunk and submerged in vague felicity;
Live, mute, and still, in what I hear and see,
The dreaming guardian of the upland nook.
To Behind, before me, I will simply be;
Hopes and regrets shall claim no share in me;
Here will I lie, beside the leaping brook,
And turn the pages of some aimless book,
Sunk and submerged in vague felicity;
Live, mute, and still, in what I hear and see,
The dreaming guardian of the upland nook.
Well, here's my world to-day! cicalas spare
Sawing harsh music; beetles big, that grope
Among the grass-stems; merry flies astir;
And goats with impudent face and silken hair,
That poise and tinkle on the Western slope,
Breast deep in Alpen-rose and juniper.
Sawing harsh music; beetles big, that grope
Among the grass-stems; merry flies astir;
And goats with impudent face and silken hair,
That poise and tinkle on the Western slope,
Breast deep in Alpen-rose and juniper.
