Explore "Sleep thou in the bosom" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sleep thou in the bosom / Of the tender comrade, / While the living water / Whispers in the well-run, / And the oleanders / Glimmer in the moonlight.
Soon, ah, soon the shy birds / Will be at their fluting, / And the morning planet / Rise above the garden; / For there is a measure / Set to all things mortal.