O Songs! I Said: "Stop Sounding In My Soul Just For A Little While And Let Me Sleep, Resting My Head On The Breast Of Silence;" But The Rhythmic Roll Of A Thousand Songs Swept On And On, And A Far Voice Said: "When Thou Art Dead Thy Restless Heart Shall Rest." And The Songs Will Never Let Me Sleep. I Plead With Them; But O'Er The Deep They Still Will Roll On, And On, And On, Their Music Never Gone. Ah! World-Tired Soul! Just For A Little While, Just Like A Poor, Tired Child Beneath Its Mother'S Smile -- Only To Fall Asleep! Silence! Be Mother To Me! But -- No! No! No! The Waves Will Ebb And Flow. I Wonder Is It Best To Never, Never Rest Down On The Shores Of This Strange Below?