| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | II. Rest
One Dead | | By John William Inchbold (1830–1888) |
| | | IS it deep sleep, or is it rather death? | |
| Rest anyhow it is, and sweet is rest:— | |
| No more the doubtful blessing of the breath; | |
| Our God hath said that silence is the best, | |
| And thou art silent as the pale, round moon, | 5 |
| And near thee is our birth’s great mystery:— | |
| Alas, we knew not thou wouldst go so soon! | |
| We cannot tell where sky is lost in sea, | |
| But only find life’s bark to come and go, | |
| By wondrous Nature’s hidden force impelled,— | 10 |
| Then melts the wake in sea, and none shall know | |
| For certain which the course the vessel held;— | |
| The lessening ship by us no more is seen, | |
| And sea and sky are just as they have been. | | | | |
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