Be still, the hanging gardens were a dream 
That over Persian roses flew to kiss 
The sunset seem 
The world is very old and nothing is 
Be still 

Thou foolish thing, thou canst not wake 
Nor thy tears wedge thy soldered lids 
Lids apart 
Be still 

Blind with the light of life 
Thou shall not forsake 
And error loves and nourishes thy soul.