| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XVI. Crossed Hands and Closed Eyes
Requiescat | | By Matthew Arnold (1822–1888) |
| | | STREW on her roses, roses, | |
| And never a spray of yew! | |
| In quiet she reposes; | |
| Ah! would that I did too. | |
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| Her mirth the world required; | 5 |
| She bathed it in smiles of glee. | |
| But her heart was tired, tired, | |
| And now they let her be. | |
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| Her life was turning, turning, | |
| In mazes of heat and sound; | 10 |
| But for peace her soul was yearning, | |
| And now peace laps her round. | |
| |
| Her cabin’d, ample spirit, | |
| It flutter’d and fail’d for breath; | |
| To-night it doth inherit | 15 |
| The vasty hall of death. | | | | |
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