THEY are waiting on the shore   For the bark to take them home: They will toil and grieve no more;   The hour for release hath come.

All their long life lies behind   Like a dimly blending dream: There is nothing left to bind   To the realms that only seem.

They are waiting for the boat;   There is nothing left to do: What was near them grows remote,   Happy silence falls like dew; Now the shadowy bark is come,   And the weary may go home.

By still water they would rest   In the shadow of the tree: After battle sleep is best,   After noise, tranquillity.