Classic Poem

Once a maiden,
Heavy-laden,
Sought to borrow
Sleep from sorrow.

Sweet the taking,
But the waking
In the numbness
And the dumbness
Of the day-dawn,
With the grey lawn
Softly plaining
In the raining,
And the meadows
Hid in shadows,
Was more dreary
Than the weary
Mounds which sever
Hearts for ever,
Where Death's reaping
Leaves man sleeping
In God's keeping.