Tuesday, 6 September 2016

Sleep - Paul Kester

If I pass between thy shadowy portals
I go, where, for a little space
No echo of the world's tumult
Shall awake
The inward strife,
The mantle of my trouble
Is forgotten
Though it wraps me still,
The day s dissatisfaction
Spends itself
In one long sigh,
Though I repeat no prayers,
Childlike, I claim
My portion of the sacrament;
I seek
The universal benediction
Of repose.

Paul Kester (1870 - 1933) USA
Source: The American Magazine, October 1910

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