Poems (Storrie)/The Quiet Lake of Sleep
The Quiet Lake of Sleep.
When dusky shadows have usurped the air And Memory, with her wide and sombre eyes Haunts every nook—I silently arise And steal away by dreamy paths to where Like holy incense in a house of prayer A peace perfected softly sanctifies The place with silence, never winds arise Nor passion storms invade the quiet there, But through the limpid depths my tired soul Slips into restfulness, and on my brow A hand from heaven is laid. Like folded sheep My thoughts lie down in pastures, and the roll Of wheeling worlds sinks to a slumbrous sough That ruffles not the quiet lake of sleep.