Why liest here, when there are lands
Filled with peace and beauties free?
“Since my sleep contenteth me,
Here do I fold my hands,
Here upon my quiet breast,
And here do rest.”
But the long and sounding shore
Calleth from afar; O hear!
“I am void of any fear,
Healed are my troubles sore;
My feet sans motion are composed
And mine eyes are closed.”
1916.