Theres something quieter than sleep

Within this inner room!

It wears a sprig upon its breast --

And will not tell its name.

Some touch it, and some kiss it --

Some chafe its idle hand --

It has a simple gravity

I do not understand!

I would not weep if I were they --

How rude in one to sob!

Might scare the quiet fairy

Back to her native wood!

While simple-hearted neighbors

Chat of the Early dead --

We -- prone to periphrasis

Remark that Birds have fled!