the ghost
walter de la mare

peace in thy hands,
peace in thine eyes
peace on thy brow
flower of a moment in the eternal hour,
peace with me now

not a wave breaks
not a bird calls
my heart, like a sea
silent after a storm that hath died,
sleeps within me

all the night’s dews
all the world’s leaves
all the winter’s snow
seem with their quiet to have stilled life’s dream
all sorrowing now