Come ye sorrowful and keep
Tryst with us here in wedded sleep,
The silent noon lies over us
And shaken ripples cover us,
Our arms are soft as is the stream.
Come keep with us our slumbrous dream
Disheartened ones, if ye are sad,
If ye are in a garment clad
Of sorrow, come with us to sleep
In undulations dim and deep;
Where sunlight spreads and quivering lies
To draw in golden reveries
Its fingers through our glistered hair,
Finding profound contentment there.
Come ye sorrowful and weep
No more in waking, come and steep
Yourselves in us as does the bee
Plunge in the rose that, singing, he
Has opened. Here our mouths unfold
As does a flower bare its gold;
Our mouths are soft as any rose
That in a high walled garden grows,
A garden level as a cup
With the sunlight that fills it up.
Come ye sorrowful and sleep
Within our arms beneath the sweep
Of winds that whisper in the trees,
And boughs that whisper to the breeze
In a sad extravagance
Of dancers in a hushed dance;
When Pan sighs and his pipes doth blow
While sky above and earth below
Stand still and hearken to his strain,
And sigh also as does the rain
Through woodland lanes remote and cool
To dream upon a leafed pool.
Come ye sorrowful and keep
Tryst with us here in wedded sleep,
Our eyes are soft as twilit streams,
Our breasts are soft as silken dreams
And white at dusk; our breasts the beds
On which we soothe all aching heads,
Binding each in a scented tress
Till glides he in forgetfulness,
While the night sighs and whispers by
Sowing stars across the sky.
Come ye sorrowful and keep
Here in unmeasured dream and sleep.
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