Hush! she sleepeth now where sorrow hath left her;
Pale no more from grief, her cheek soft blushes,
Kissed again, dear heart, by the spirit she loved so
Gem-like still, there glisten under her lashes
Last two tears she wept ere slumber upbore her
Timid lips, that tremble over their smiling,
Fearing lest they wake the surge of her grieving,
Whisper words of wonder, wild, paradisal,
Born of lands unknown before to her footfall.

O Sleep, thou mother of mortals, sorrow-charmer,
Thou dear deceiver, rendering beauty for ashes,
Now this flower of sadness have in thy keeping,
Lead her down sweet paths, through brightness ethereal,
Stem the tide of her tears with loving devotion;
Out of her griefs weave glories; out of her sorrow
Weave her peace; O Sleep, thou mother of mourners,
Thou dear deceiver, steep her dolour in peace.