Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Where Harold Sleeps

For other versions of this work, see Where Harold Sleeps.

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Poems, Volume II by Florence Earle Coates Where Harold Sleeps

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WHERE HAROLD SLEEPS

WHERE Harold sleeps the night is blest. In the Great Mother's easeful breast  He lies the brave and sweet among  Who, loved by the wise gods, die young— The goal achieved without the quest. Though winds of Autumn from the West May rudely rock the unsheltered nest,  Yet shall all joys of Spring be sung    Where Harold sleeps; And we, our human griefs confessed, We, too, by a dear hope caressed—  Death's hope illimitable, sprung  From nothing that to earth hath clung— Shall, waiting a new dawn, find rest    Where Harold sleeps!