"They are not dead but sleeping," for the Lord
Hath sent His angel who hath touched their eyes,
And sweetly as a child at evening, dreams
Upon his mother's bosom, lulled to rest
By the soft pulsings of her gentle heart,
So rested well the brave Ephesian youths,--
Guarded by angels, while celestial light
Filled the lone cave and made its rocky bounds
Invisible; and thus they might have seen,
(But that their eyes were closed in heavenly sleep)
The bright stars drifting on the ethereal tide,--
The moon at quarter, like a golden boat
Rock onward to its changing destiny--
The great sun, rising from the under-world,
Blanch all the planets with his fiery rays.
Beneath them were the blue Aegean sea,
Miletus, and the proud Ephesus, where
Rose the world's miracle of marble white,
The Temple of the goddess worshiped there.
Day follows night and night the busy day;
The generations come and go apace,
The child hath left his toys, and in the whirl
Of years is now a grandsire by the hearth,
And now hath passed away and is forgot.
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