TO SLEEP I will find out a place for thee, O Sleep— A hidden wood among the hill-tops green, Full of soft streams and little winds that creep The murmuring boughs between. A hollow cup above the ocean placed Where nothing rough, nor loud, nor harsh shall be, But woodland light and shadow interlaced And summer sky and sea There in the fragrant twilight I will raise A secret altar of the rich sea sod, Whereat to offer sacrifice and praise Unto my lonely god; Due sacrifice of his own drowsy flowers The deadening poppies in an ocean shell Round which through all forgotten days and hours The great seas wove their spell. So may he send me dreams of dead delight And draughts of cool oblivion, quenching pain, And sweet, half-wakeful moments in the night To hear the falling rain. And when he meets me at the dusk of day To call me home for ever, this I ask— That he may lead me friendly on that way And wear no frightful mask. From Spirits in Bondage
Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics. Copyright © 1919 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved. Used with permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
Forward this email to your friends, or invite them to subscribe to receive the C. S. Lewis Daily email. | 
No comments:
Post a Comment