25.06.2007, 11:46
The Traveller
When in the dark we slowly drift away
O'er unknown seas, and busy thoughts at last
Are quieted, and all the cares are past
That, bandit-like, infest the realms of day--
To what pale country does the spirit stray?
Within what wan-lit land, what region vast,
Does this strange traveller journey far and fast,
Till in the east the day breaks cold and gray?
Ah, tell me, when we slumber, whither goes,
And whence at waking comes, the silent guest,
Whose face no man hath seen, whom no man knows--
The dim familiar of each human breast?
Behold, at length, when day indeed shall close,
Will this uneasy traveller, too, have rest?
When in the dark we slowly drift away
O'er unknown seas, and busy thoughts at last
Are quieted, and all the cares are past
That, bandit-like, infest the realms of day--
To what pale country does the spirit stray?
Within what wan-lit land, what region vast,
Does this strange traveller journey far and fast,
Till in the east the day breaks cold and gray?
Ah, tell me, when we slumber, whither goes,
And whence at waking comes, the silent guest,
Whose face no man hath seen, whom no man knows--
The dim familiar of each human breast?
Behold, at length, when day indeed shall close,
Will this uneasy traveller, too, have rest?