他睡得真香!喝下了疲倦的童年的曼陀罗，从他美丽的眼睛里沉下了快乐，为更多腾出空间——睡在他前一天摘下的枯萎的花束旁。一束束鲜花!把它们留给醒着的人，把它们扔到它们生长的地方。他望着残破的紫红花，眼睛是如此暗淡——闭上眼睛比张开眼睛看到的颜色更明亮。天上的花朵，被金色的阴影映着，从它们从小路上跳下来，现在也许被神抓住，在他身上摆成一个花环——我们可以从他的盛开和呼吸的加速中这样想。异象对异象呼唤，小孩子仍在做梦。美丽啊，梦想家，你带着你赢得的荣耀降临!昨天早晨，你在花园里被夏日的太阳晒得更黑了。我们会看到幽灵在你的周围回响，——如果云已经消散。 'Tis the child-heart draws them, singing In the silent-seeming clay--- Singing!---Stars that seem the mutest, go in music all the way. As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour,--- So the Spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose. Shapes of brightness overlean thee,--- Flash their diadems of youth On the ringlets which half screen thee,--- While thou smilest, . . . not in sooth Thy smile . . . but the overfair one, dropt from some aethereal mouth. Haply it is angels' duty, During slumber, shade by shade: To fine down this childish beauty To the thing it must be made, Ere the world shall bring it praises, or the tomb shall see it fade. Softly, softly! make no noises! Now he lieth dead and dumb--- Now he hears the angels' voices Folding silence in the room--- Now he muses deep the meaning of the Heaven-words as they come. Speak not! he is consecrated--- Breathe no breath across his eyes. Lifted up and separated, On the hand of God he lies, In a sweetness beyond touching---held in cloistral sanctities. Could ye bless him---father---mother ? Bless the dimple in his cheek? Dare ye look at one another, And the benediction speak? Would ye not break out in weeping, and confess yourselves too weak? He is harmless---ye are sinful,--- Ye are troubled---he, at ease: From his slumber, virtue winful Floweth outward with increase--- Dare not bless him! but be blessed by his peace---and go in peace.