Rest

O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; 

Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth; 

Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth 

With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs. 

She hath no questions, she hath no replies, 

Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth 

Of all that irked her from the hour of birth; 

With stillness that is almost Paradise. 

Darkness more clear than noon-day holdeth her, 

Silence more musical than any song; 

Even her very heart has ceased to stir: 

Until the morning of Eternity 

Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be; 

And when she wakes she will not think it long. 

--Christina Rossetti From Goblin Market and Other Poems (1862)