Be still, dear soul, and writhe no more
Lie down by the waves of this moonlit shore
Sleep beautifully sound, unaltered, unbound
And dream far from the fits of yore
Yes dream, and may your dreams be pure
May the swell of the ocean's back enrapture
Rest and be filled, be ageless, distilled
In the somnolent wishing of this tranquil tour
And if across the water does walk a form
Moving weightless through the waves in a storm
A touch of death is a touch of repose
Memorize this, as unexplained as it goes.
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