Out of Lucretius

by Robert Hillyer

Be calm, O soul so often tried,
Sleep once was thine, and sleep shall come again,
Ere thou wert born, when thou hast died,
  Not thine the pain.

Before thou wokest from the womb
Sorrow and hate were old, and fear and need,
Thou didst not know them; in the tomb
  Thou shalt not heed.

Serenely face thy undertaking.
Sorrow is great? thy slumber shall be deep,
And life not but a moment's waking
  From sleep to sleep.

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