Roadside Rest

SUCH quiet sleep has come to them !
The springs and autumns pass,
Nor do they know if it be snow
Or daisies in the grass.
All day the birches bend to hear
The river’s undertone ;
Across the hush a fluting thrush
Sings evensong alone.
But down their dream there drifts no sound,
The winds may sob and stir —
On the still breast of Peace they rest,
And they are glad of her.
They ask not any gift — they mind
Not any foot that fares ;
Unheededly Life passes by,
Such quiet sleep is theirs.
Arthur Ketchum.