V.

    O sleep, it is a gentle thing

    Belovd from pole to pole!

    to Mary-queen the praise be yeven

    S tle sleep from heaven

    t slid into my soul.

    ts on the deck

    t had so long remaind,

    I dreamt t th dew

    And w raind.

    My lips , my t was cold,

    My garments all were dank;

    Sure I had drunken in my dreams

    And still my body drank.

    I movd and could not feel my limbs,

    I was so lig

    I t t I had died in sleep,

    And was a blessed G.

    t roard far off,

    It did not come anear;

    But s sound it she sails

    t hin and sere.

    ts into life,

    And a hundred ?re-?ags sheen

    to and fro t;

    And to and fro, and in and out

    tars dance on between.

    th roar more loud;

    the sails do sigh, like sedge:

    the rain pours down from one black cloud

    And t its edge.

    ,

    And t its side:

    Like ers s from some high crag,

    tning falls h never a jag

    A river steep and wide.

    trong wind reac roard

    And droppd doone!

    Beneatning and the moon

    the dead men gave a groan.

    tirrd, they all uprose,

    Ne spake, ne movd their eyes:

    It range, even in a dream

    to hose dead men rise.

    teerd, the ship movd on;

    Yet never a breeze up-blew;

    the ropes,

    to do:

    tools--

    e were a gly crew.

    thers son

    Stood by me knee to knee:

    t one rope,

    But  to me--

    And I quakd to think of my own voice

    ful it would be!

    t daheir arms,

    And clusterd round t:

    S sounds rose slohs

    And from their bodies passd.

    Around, around, ?ew eac sound,

    ted to the sun:

    Slohe sounds came back again

    Now mixd, now one by one.

    Sometimes a dropping from the sky

    I he Lavrock sing;

    Sometimes all little birds t are

    o ?ll the sea and air

    it jargoning,

    And noruments,

    Noe;

    And no is an angels song

    t makes te.

    It ceasd: yet still the sails made on

    A pleasant noise till noon,

    A noise like of a hidden brook

    In th of June,

    t to t

    Singet tune.

    Listen, O listen, t!

    quot;Marinere! t thy will:

    quot;For t, h make

    quot;My body and soul to be still.quot;

    Never sadder tale old

    to a man of woman born:

    Sadder and !

    t rise to morrow morn.

    Never sadder tale was heard

    By a man of woman born:

    turnd to work

    As silent as beforne.

    the ropes,

    But look at me they nold:

    t I, I am as thin as air--

    t me behold.

    till moon ly saild on

    Yet never a breeze did breathe:

    Slo the ship

    Movd onh.

    Under thom deep

    From t and snow

    t slid: and it was he

    t made to go.

    t noon left off tune

    And tood still also.

    t up above t

    o the ocean:

    But in a minute sir

    it uneasy motion--

    Backwards and forwards h

    it uneasy motion.

    t go,

    She made a sudden bound:

    It ?ung to my head,

    And I fell into a swound.

    same ?t I lay,

    I  to declare;

    But ere my living life returnd,

    I heard and in my soul discernd

    the air,

    quot;Is it ; quot;Is the man?

    quot;By him who died on cross,

    quot;ith his cruel bow he layd full low

    quot;tross.

    quot;t wh by himself

    quot;In t and snow,

    quot; lovd the man

    quot; ;

    ter voice,

    As soft as honey-dew:

    Quoth penance done,

    And penance more will do.