| |
| OVER the edge of the purple down, | |
| Where the single lamplight gleams, | |
| Know ye the road to the Merciful Town | |
| That is hard by the Sea of Dreams— | |
| Where the poor may lay their wrongs away, | 5 |
| And the sick may forget to weep? | |
| But we—pity us! Oh, pity us! | |
| We wakeful; ah, pity us!— | |
| We must go back with Policeman Day— | |
| Back from the City of Sleep! | 10 |
| |
| Weary they turn from the scroll and crown, | |
| Fetter and prayer and plough— | |
| They that go up to the Merciful Town, | |
| For her gates are closing now. | |
| It is their right in the Baths of Night | 15 |
| Body and soul to steep, | |
| But we—pity us! ah, pity us! | |
| We wakeful; oh, pity us!— | |
| We must go back with Policeman Day— | |
| Back from the City of Sleep! | 20 |
| |
| Over the edge of the purple down, | |
| Ere the tender dreams begin, | |
| Look—we may look—at the Merciful Town, | |
| But we may not enter in! | |
| Outcasts all, from her guarded wall | 25 |
| Back to our watch we creep: | |
| We—pity us! ah, pity us! | |
| We wakeful; oh, pity us!— | |
| We that go back with Policeman Day— | |
| Back from the City of Sleep! | 30 |
| |
