A DIRGE

By Olive Tilford Dargan

Mortal child, lay thee where

Earth is gift and giver;

Midnight owl, witch, or bear

Shall disturb thee never!

Softly, softly take thy place,

Turn from man thy waning face;

Fear not thou must lie alone,

Sleep-mates thou shalt have anon.

( Clock of Time none commands,

Driveth not the winter floods,

Where the silent, tireless sands

Run the ages of the gods. )

Thine is not a jealous bed;

Pillow here hath every head;

All that are and all to be

Shall ask a little room of thee.

( Feet of flame, haste nor creep

Where the stars are of thy pace;

Heart of fire, in shadows sleep,

With the sun in thy embrace. )

Babe of Time, old in care,

Sweet is Earth, the giver;

Owlet, witch, or midnight bear

Shall disturb thee never.