| IN darkness the loud sea makes moan; | |
| And earth is shaken, and all evils creep | |
| About her ways. | |
| Oh, now to know you sleep! | |
| Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, | 5 |
| Out of the slow grim fight, | |
| One thought to wing—to you, asleep, | |
| In some cool room that’s open to the night | |
| Lying half-forward, breathing quietly, | |
| One white hand on the white | 10 |
| Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair | |
| Quiet and still at length!… | |
| |
| Your magic and your beauty and your strength, | |
| Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree, | |
| Sleeping prevail in earth and air. | 15 |
| |
| In the sweet gloom above the brown and white | |
| Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night | |
| Move gently round the room, and watch you there. | |
| And through the dreadful hours | |
| The trees and waters and the hills have kept | 20 |
| The sacred vigil while you slept, | |
| And lay a way of dew and flowers | |
| Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread. | |
| And still the darkness ebbs about your bed. | |
| Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep. | 25 |
| And holy joy about the earth is shed; | |
| And holiness upon the deep. | |
