REST

REST

O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;

     Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;

     Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth

With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.

She hath no questions, she hath no replies,

     Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth

     Of all that irked her from the hour of birth;

With stillness that is almost Paradise.

Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,

     Silence more musical than any song;

Even her very heart has ceased to stir:

Until the morning of Eternity

Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;

     And when she wakes she will not think it long.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti BEATA BEATRIX Oil on canvas. Circa 1864–1870 Tate, London

Данте Габриэль Россетти BEATA BEATRIX Холст, масло. Ок. 1864–1870 Галерея Тейт, Лондон