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George MacDonald - A Noonday MelodyGeorge MacDonald - A Noonday Melody
Work rating: Medium


Everything goes to its rest; The hills are asleep in the noon; And life is as still in its nest As the moon when she looks on a moon In the depth of a calm river`s breast As it steals through a midnight in June. The streams have forgotten the sea In the dream of their musical sound; The sunlight is thick on the tree, And the shadows lie warm on the ground,— So still, you may watch them and see Every breath that awakens around. The churchyard lies still in the heat, With its handful of mouldering bone, As still as the long stalk of wheat In the shadow that sits by the stone, As still as the grass at my feet When I walk in the meadows alone. The waves are asleep on the main, And the ships are asleep on the wave; And the thoughts are as still in my brain As the echo that sleeps in the cave; All rest from their labour and pain— Then why should not I in my grave?
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