EBOOK PUNCH, VOLUME 101 ***
Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 101.
September 19, 1891.
[Illustration: OFF DUTY.
_The "Daily Graphic" Weather-Young-Woman gets her "Sundays out."_]
* * * * *
SILENCE AND SLEEP.
(_LINES WRITTEN AT COCK-CROW._)
Night-time and silence! O'er the brooding hill
The last faint whisper of the zephyr dies;
Meadows and trees and lanes are hushed and still,
A shroud of mist on the slow river lies;
And the tall sentry poplars silent keep
Their lonely vigil in a world of sleep.
Yea, all men sleep who toiled throughout the day
At sport or work, and had their fill of sound,
The jest and laughter that we mate with play,
The beat of hoofs, the mill-wheel grinding round,
The anvil's note on summer breezes borne,
The sickle's sweep in fields of yellow corn.
And I too, as the hours go softly by,
Lie and forget, and yield to sleep's behest,
Leave for a space the world without a sigh,
And pass through silence into dreamless rest;
Like a tired swimmer floating tranquilly
Full in the tide upon a peaceful sea.
But hark, that sound! Again and yet again!
Darkness is cleft, the stricken silence breaks,
And sleep's soft veil is rudely rent in twain,
And weary nature all too soon, awakes;
Though through the gloom has pierced no ray of light,
To hail the dawn and bid farewell to night.
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