Oh! is it Death that comes br To have a foretaste of the whole? br To-night the planets and the stars br Will glimmer through my window-bars br But will not shine upon my soul! br br For I shall lie as dead br Though yet I am above the ground; br All passionless, with scarce a breath, br With hands of rest and eyes of death, br I shall be carried swiftly round. br br Or if my life should break br The idle night with doubtful gleams, br Through mossy arches will I go, br Through arches ruinous and low, br And chase the true and false in dreams. br br Why should I fall asleep? br When I am still upon my bed br The moon will shine, the winds will rise br And all around and through the skies br The light clouds travel o'er my head! br br O busy, busy things, br Ye mock me with your ceaseless life! br For all the hidden springs will flow br And all the blades of grass will grow br When I have neither peace nor strife. br br And all the long night through br The restless streams will hurry by; br And round the lands, with endless roar, br The white waves fall upon the shore, br And bit by bit devour the dry. br br Even thus, but silently, br Eternity, thy tide shall flow, br And side by side with every star br Thy long-drawn swell shall bear me far, br An idle boat with none to row. br br My senses fail with sleep; br My heart beats thick; the night is noon; br And faintly through its misty folds br I hear a drowsy clock that holds br Its converse with the waning moon.