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And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf.
Drawn for belt about the waist;
Shot their arrows round the chief.
If the disembodied soul
Might not take a dreary joy
Rolling up the thunder-roll ?
Rolling this way from Troy-ruin,
In this body rude and rife
His heroic heart to life?
At a motion or a sound!
With an OTOTOTOTOI ?
Make the daisies tremble-round?
It was hard to answer, often :
But the birds sang in the tree-
In the pear-tree green and old,
Through the courage of their glee.
And white blossoms, sleek with rain!
Oh, my childhood's bright romances! All revive, like Hector's body,
And I see them stir again!
And despite the deathbell's toll,
Sing God's patience through my soul!
Of the present's work unsped,
Life's heroic ends pursuing,
And though Hector is twice dead.
SLEEPING AND WATCHING.
SLEEP on, baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing!
That, you dropped away in!
Golden lights serenely. One cheek, pushed out by the hand,
Folds the dimple inly. Little head and little foot
Heavy laid for pleasure, Underneath the lids half shut,
Slants the shining azure.Open-soul in noonday sun,
So, you lie and slumber! Nothing evil having done,
Nothing can encumber.
I, who cannot sleep as well,
Shall I sigh to view you?
All that may undo you?
Ere the sorrow neareth.
Pleasure's token weareth.
Nay, keep sleeping before loss.
I shall sleep, though losing! As by cradle, so by cross,
Sure is the reposing.
III. And God knows who sees us twain
Child at childish leisure, I am near as tired of pain
As you seem of pleasure. Very soon too, by His grace
Gently wrapt around me, Shall I show as calm a face,
Shall I sleep as soundly. Differing in this, that you
Clasp your playthings, sleeping, While my hand shall drop the few
Given to my keeping. Differing in this, that I
Sleeping shall be colder, And in waking presently,
Brighter to beholder. Differing in this beside
(Sleeper, have you heard me? Do you move, and open wide
Eyes of wonder toward me?) That while you I thus recall
From your sleep, I solely, Me from mine an angel shall,
With reveille holy.
The hoary ocean:
Toss the shades from bank to bank,