Past and Present
by Francis Turner Palgrave (1824-1897)

As I hear the breath of the mother
      To the breath of the child at her feet
Answer in even whispers,
      When night falls heavy and sweet:

Sleep puts out silent fingers,
      And leads me back to the roar
Of the dead salt sea that vomits
      Wrecks of the past ashore.

I see the lost Love in beauty
      Go gliding over the main:
I feel the ancient sweetness,
      The worm and the wormwood again.

Earth all one tomb lies round me,
      Domed with an iron sky:
And God Himself in His power,
      God cannot save me! I cry.

With the cry I wake;—and around me
      The mother and child at her feet
Breathe peace in even whispers;
      And the night falls heavy and sweet.

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