A Hidden Life

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II.

There is a dearer, warmer bed,

  Where one all day may lie, Earth's bosom pillowing the head,

  And let the world go by. Instead of mother's love-lit eyes,

  The church's storied pane, All blank beneath cold starry skies,

  Or sounding in the rain.

The great world, shouting, forward fares:

  This chamber, hid from none, Hides safe from all, for no one cares

  For those whose work is done. Cheer thee, my heart, though tired and slow

  An unknown grassy place Somewhere on earth is waiting now

  To rest thee from thy race.



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