REQUIES.

O IS it death or life

That sounds like something strangely known

In this subsiding out of strife,

This slow sea-monotone?

A sound, scarce heard through sleep,

Murmurous as the August bees

That fill the forest hollows deep

About the roots of trees.

O is it life or death,

O is it hope or memory,

That quiets all things with this breath

Of the eternal sea?